The Savior of the Wizarding World
by SirSmithy
Summary: On Hiatus. Spoilers through HBP. A post Hogwarts story about life after Voldemort and the War.
1. The Death of Lord Voldemort

Author's Notes:

This is a post-Hogwarts story. It does contain HBP spoilers, so if you haven't read that book yet I do NOT recommend reading this fanfic. This is a story about the aftermath of the war, about how the HP characters and the wizarding world in general move on from the war and rebuild their society. I have a good idea about where I'm going with this story, but I should warn you in advance that updates will likely be slow.

Also, this is my first fanfic. I've always wanted to try and write one, and when the idea behind this came to me, I knew I had to write it. It is not beta'd, and I am not British. This second point is important – I am not British. As a result, the characters will probably end up not talking the way they should. I apologize for that. If you really don't like it, then I guess you shouldn't read this.

The rating is simply to cover me, as I'm not entirely sure what the rating will be in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World**  
**Chapter 1 – The Death of Lord Voldemort**

The first thing that Harry James Potter became aware of was the light. It was a blinding, overpowering, glaring sort of light that burned his eyeballs and created unimaginable pain. And so he did the only thing he could think of, he closed his eyes.

Except they wouldn't close. He paused for a moment to process this, his mind struggling to make sense of this new information. _Why can't I close my eyes? Why is the light so bright? What is the light, anyway? Where am I? Why is everything so confusing?_ As the light continued to blind him, he suddenly came to a conclusion. _My eyes are already closed._

He wasn't exactly sure how he knew, but as soon as the thought came to him he knew it was true. So he did the only thing he could think of, he tried to open his eyes. He immediately regretted doing that, for the light, which was already causing him terrible pain, seemed to shine a million times brighter the second he opened his eyes. He let out a hiss of a breath as he hurriedly forced his eyes closed again, struggling not to pass out from the intense, blinding pain.

"I think he's waking up!" he heard a voice exclaim. The voice sounded familiar to him, but his mind was still too clouded and confused to recognize it.

He could sense a flurry of movement around him, still not sure what was going on. Just when he was about to try and speak, he heard a voice that seemed to come from just above his face.

"Mr. Potter, can you hear me?"

Harry managed to grunt in acknowledgement.

"Harry!" a voice shrieked. It was the same voice he had first heard.

"Quiet, or you will wait outside!" the second voice said in a firm tone. "Mr. Potter, can you tell me how you feel?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He closed it and took a deep breath, summoning all his strength. "Bright… Hurts…" he croaked, then lay there panting with exhaustion. He never imagined saying two words would be so tiring.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. _Nox_," the voice said. Instantly the light faded, leaving only a soft glow which caused a dull throb in his head. It was manageable, though, especially considering the light it had just replaced.

Harry slowly forced his eyes open. The first thing he saw was Madam Pomfrey's worried face leaning over him. He tried to smile at her but gave up when he couldn't find the energy. A second later Hermione's face came into view as she leaned over him as well. This time he did manage to smile, a smile which grew even wider when Ron leaned over as well. But the smile faded when he noticed both of them looked horrible. Ron had dark rings around his eyes, and Hermione looked as if she had been crying. He had so many questions for them. He wanted to know what was wrong, why he was in the hospital wing, and why Ginny wasn't there. But an exhaustion was sweeping over him that he just couldn't fight. He drifted off to sleep almost instantly.

- - - - -

Harry awoke with a start, a sense of dread filling him. He lay in bed for a moment thinking. He knew something was wrong but he couldn't figure out what. Realizing he wasn't going to figure it out on his own he examined his surroundings.

He was laying in a bed in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. It looked to be the middle of the night, as the room was dark and he could see nothing but black outside the window. The room appeared to be empty except for Ron and Hermione, who were both asleep in chairs next to his bed. He looked closer at his two friends and frowned when he remembered how they had looked earlier, just before he fell asleep. He could see that they both still looked terrible, although slightly better than before. And where was Ginny?

He tried to sit up and immediately groaned as a terrible pain shot through his head. He slumped back in his bed, searching his memory for what had happened. He remembered going out to dinner with Ron and Hermione, and then…

"Harry!" His groan had awoken Hermione, who instantly shot out of her chair and stood over him. "How are you feeling? Are you ok? Do you need anything? Oh, we were so worried! Do you…"

"Give him some space, Hermione." Harry looked beyond Hermione and saw Ron awake also. Hermione bit her lip and stepped back to stand beside Ron.

"How are you, mate?" Ron asked softly.

"I hurt. Everywhere," he answered truthfully. "What happened? What's wrong, you two look terrible. And where's Ginny?" he blurted out.

At the mention of Ginny Hermione paled and Ron's eyes turned dark. The dread Harry had felt when he woke up suddenly grew stronger. From the reactions of his friends, something was definitely wrong.

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "What do you remember?"

Harry frowned at the indirect answer to his question, but went back to searching his memory. He really was curious as to what he remembered. "I… we went out to dinner. You, me, and Ron," he said slowly. He couldn't understand why it was so difficult to remember, but it felt like he was dragging the memories out of a tightly locked box. "We had just killed the snake. That was the last of the Horcruxes. We were celebrating. Our food had just arrived when... when…" He struggled to remember after that.

Suddenly the memories came flooding back. It was as if a dam had burst, a thousand memories of what happened next flew into his mind all at once, threatening to overwhelm him. In the few seconds it took to process them all, he suddenly felt ill. His stomach twisted into a horrible knot and he looked up at his two friends. His face was white with fear. "Ginny?" he whispered.

Hermione let out a squeak as a tear fell down her face. But it was Ron who scared Harry the most. For Ron also had tears in his eyes, and in all the years Harry had known Ron he had never seen his friend cry.

Harry closed his eyes as the memories of what happened threatened to overwhelm him.

- - - - -

"Harry…"

"Hmm?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione. The three of them were sitting at a small table in a restaurant in Muggle London. Harry had found it several months earlier and immediately fell in love with the place. It was small and cozy, with a fireplace off to one side that reminded him of the Gryffindor common room. The food was excellent as well, with a menu offering a mixture of specialties from all over the world.

"Are you going to keep your word?"

He looked at her, the confusion evident on his face. Hermione saw it and sighed.

"About NEWTS, Harry."

"Oh." He stopped to think. When Harry had promised Hermione, almost ten months ago now, that he would study for and take his NEWTS after finding and destroying the four remaining Horcruxes, actually accomplishing that had seemed so far off that he hadn't thought twice about it. But now that it had finally been accomplished, he wasn't sure about it. If he was honest with himself, they just didn't seem terribly important. He would much rather just go after Voldemort now and get the whole thing over with.

She seemed to read his indecision on his face. "You promised me, Harry." When that didn't earn a response, she tried a different tactic. "Look, I know you want to just go out and find Voldemort now," she said in a gentler tone. "I don't blame you. I want this whole thing over with just as much as you do. But your NEWTS are important. At the very least, something you learn while studying for them could end up saving your life when you do finally face him."

Harry smiled. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted, because he had in fact been worrying about whether or not he would even be capable of defeating Voldemort. "All right, Hermione, I'll keep my promise. We'll start studying tomorrow."

Hermione smiled at him and then turned to Ron, but before she could say anything he spoke. "Don't worry, I'm not going to let you two take the NEWTS without me. You can't get rid of me that easily. I'll take them also."

Hermione smiled again and hugged Ron, who was sitting next to her. Harry watched in amusement as they quickly broke the hug and looked away, shooting each other awkward glances. He wondered to himself if they would ever stop dancing around their feelings for each other.

He was broken out of his thoughts, and Ron and Hermione were saved from their awkwardness, when the waiter arrived carrying a tray with their food on it.

"Steak dinner with extra potatoes," he said while placing a plate containing a juicy steak in front of Ron, whose eyes lit up at the sight of it. "Pasta Alfredo for the lovely young lady," he said as he set down Hermione's meal, who blushed at the compliment. "And Pork Roast for you," he said to Harry as he set down the last plate he was carrying. "Is there anything else I can get you three?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, seeing his two friends do the same. "No, I think we're ok," he said. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," the waiter responded. "Bon appetit."

The second he said those last two words Harry felt the tug behind his navel that indicated a portkey. It caught him completely off guard and before he could react he felt himself toppling to the floor, hearing Ron and Hermione do the same beside him.

"You two all right?" he asked quietly, and was relieved to hear them both acknowledge that they were. He stood up, his senses alert and his wand in his hand. They were surrounded by complete darkness, he could see absolutely nothing. The floor had felt like stone, and was cold to the touch. The air was cold and felt damp.

"I think we're underground," Hermione said.

Harry nodded, forgetting she couldn't actually see him. "Yeah, I think so." Suddenly his scar exploded in pain. He fell to the ground, clenching his teeth and trying not to cry out. He wasn't entirely successful and a quiet moan escaped his lips.

"What's wrong!" Hermione cried out, feeling along the floor to try to find Harry.

"Scar…" he said, still fighting the pain but slowly getting used to it enough to function.

"Voldemort," Ron said in disgust. "He's here. He must be, if your scar hurts that much."

"_Lumos,_" a voice hissed in the darkness. Instantly the room was flooded with light. From his spot on the floor Harry blinked in the sudden light and looked around the room. He fought to suppress the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. The three of them were in the center of a large room made entirely of stone. They were surrounded by at least 50 wizards in black robes and white masks. And standing among all those wizards was one who stood out from the rest. He stood taller than the rest and he was very thin, unnaturally thin. His skin was almost white it was so pale, but what really set him apart were his eyes. Red, snakelike eyes that shone with a hatred so intense it made Harry shudder.

"Brilliant deduction, Weasley," Voldemort said, his hissing voice making the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.

Harry pushed aside his fear, ignored the pain in his scar, and climbed to his feet. He stared at Voldemort for several seconds, his green eyes and Voldemort's red eyes locked in some sort of struggle. Nobody moved, the room was deathly still as the most powerful Dark Lord in the history of the Wizarding World and the Boy-Who-Lived stared each other down.

"What do you want, Tom?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. "I really don't feel like playing with you today. My friends and I were just about to sit down to dinner as a matter of fact," he said with such sarcasm that Voldemort blinked before scowling at the use of his given name.

"That is not my name, Potter," he hissed.

"Oh, I think it is."

Voldemort opened his mouth to respond, and then stopped. Instead he smiled, a smile which chilled Harry to his very core. It was a smile that told Harry Voldemort had something to be pleased about, and that was never a good thing.

"Your arrogance won't last, child." And with that he stepped aside. Harry opened his mouth to send back a retort but it never made it out of his mouth. His eyes widened and his stomach plummeted as he saw what Voldemort had been hiding with his body. Ginny Weasley stood there, bound and gagged, her eyes flashing with both anger and fear. Two Death Eaters stood on either side of her, one with their wand pointed at her throat, another with their wand pointed at her heart.

"Ginny!" both Harry and Ron cried out at the same time. Harry turned to Voldemort. "Let her go!" he shouted.

Voldemort just laughed, a cruel, high-pitched laugh, and then he flicked his wand lazily towards Ginny. "_Crucio,_" he hissed. Ginny went rigid for a second and then fell to the floor in convulsions. She made no sound because of the gag (along with a silencing charm, Harry realized) but her eyes reflected her pain.

"Let her go!" Harry cried out. He tried to lunge forward but was suddenly halted by a dozen Death Eater wands pointed directly at him. Surprisingly, though, Voldemort did just that. With another flick of his wand the curse ended, leaving Ginny panting on the floor. But before Harry could puzzle over Voldemort's actions, he flicked his wrist a third time.

"_Crucio._" Again Ginny began to convulse in pain. Voldemort turned to Harry. "Just kidding," he said, and then he laughed again.

"I said, let her go!" Harry cried out again. He glanced back at his two friends but saw both of them paralyzed with fear. With a start he realized this was the first time either of them had ever actually faced Voldemort. For the first time he really began to panic. He had no idea what to do, and in the meantime he was forced to watch as Ginny endured the horrible effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

"I think not," Voldemort responded. "I wasn't planning to kill you just yet, Potter, but when I found out you were going to that restaurant I just couldn't pass up my opportunity. I knew you would feel safe in muggle society," he said, spitting with disgust when he said 'muggle', "so I knew you would have your guard down. Just turn a couple of chairs into portkeys which are activated by that stupid muggle phrase the waiters there always say when they bring your food, and here you are."

Harry was now in full-fledged panic mode. The whole time Voldemort was talking he was watching Ginny convulse on the floor. Blood was now trickling out of her nose. "Fine, you want me?" he said. "Then kill me. But let her go, she never did anything to you."

"She's a Weasley. A blood traitor. Even worse than muggles. No, Potter, I think she will die. Ordinarily I wouldn't bother with her myself, but I know how much she means to you. Nothing will give me greater pleasure to see the look on your face as I kill you, knowing that you have just watched your beloved Ginny Weasley die by my wand."

"_Expelliarm_…" Harry shouted.

"_Reducto_!" Voldemort hissed, expecting an attack. Harry flew backward several feet before crashing into the stone floor, hitting his head hard as he landed. A searing pain flashed through his head but he pushed it aside and climbed to his feet.

"_Crucio! Crucio!"_ Both Ron and Hermione cried out in anguish and fell to the floor, overcome by the curse. "Your friends will pay for your foolishness," Voldemort hissed over the screams of pain.

"Let. Them. Go. Now." Harry was seething with anger. Voldemort turned to him and his red, snake eyes widened in surprise. Harry was pointing his wand at Voldemort. His eyes had turned a much darker shade of green than normal, and his hair was suddenly blowing about as if he was standing outside in the wind. But what truly surprised, and even frightened, Voldemort was the waves of power he felt coming off the boy.

"I grow tired of this," he said, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. "Disarm him," he instructed his followers. Despite Harry's strength at defending himself, he could do little against 50 shouts of "_Expelliarmus!" _at once. His wand flew out of his hand. For a brief second it hovered in mid-air, shaking under the power of so many curses at once, before it exploded into countless small pieces. Harry stared in shock, not quite believing what just happened to his wand, one of his most beloved possessions.

Voldemort ended the curse on Ginny and then motioned for her to be brought to her feet. The two Death Eaters at her side dragged her up and let go of her. She swayed dangerously but remained upright. "Good," he said. "It's much less fun killing people who can't even stand." He pointed his wand at her.

Harry looked around in desperation. His wand was gone. A few dozen Death Eaters had wands pointed at him. Ron and Hermione were still on the ground, convulsing under the effects of the curse but no longer crying out. He worried about what that meant, but pushed it aside for the moment. He had absolutely nothing he could do as he watched Voldemort prepare to kill the girl he loved.

The realization of the situation enraged him. Voldemort was about to kill Ginny and he could do nothing. He felt a rush of powerful emotions, the strongest of them a blend of rage and love. He hated Voldemort with every fiber of his being, but as Voldemort raised his wand and opened his mouth to speak, the love he felt for Ginny overwhelmed even that hatred. He felt like he would burst as he realized, for the first time, the depth of his feelings for her and what it would be like to watch her die.

"_Avada Kedav…"_

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harry cried out as his emotions overwhelmed him. He felt a sudden surge of power. As soon as it faded he slumped to the ground, exhausted. He looked around and saw that every Death Eater was laying on the ground, apparently unconscious. Ron and Hermione were still on the floor, but the Cruciatus curse no longer seemed to be on them. The only two people still standing were Voldemort and Ginny. Voldemort looked at Harry, fear evident in his eyes. Ginny stood there defiantly, tears still streaming down her face from being held under Voldemort's curse for so long.

Harry got to his feet and started to run over to Ginny, but stopped when he felt something jabbing into his leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand. He blinked in surprise when he realized whose wand it was. He turned to the owner, who still hadn't moved.

"Lose something?"

Voldemort scowled, the fear still evident in his eyes. "How did you do that?"

Harry shrugged, feeling confident after seeing how afraid Voldemort was. He held the wand at his side. "Why should I tell you?"

It happened in the blink of an eye. The fear disappeared from Voldemort's eyes and was replaced by triumph. He raised his hand and pointed a finger at Harry, who had only enough time to realize he had been tricked. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Ginny let out a muffled cry and lunged forward despite being bound by magical ropes, placing herself directly in the path of the green light flying towards Harry. It struck her square in the chest and she crumpled to the ground.

Harry stared at her motionless body in shock. He could feel himself shutting down. He knew he would never feel happiness again. He felt the desire to live leaving him. But he pushed all of that aside, so far away that he couldn't feel it, at least for a few minutes. He left only one emotion, one which was so powerful he began to shake.

Hatred.

"You should know, Tom, that all of your Horcruxes are destroyed. You can now die, just like anybody else," Harry said, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury at Voldemort. He felt the hatred soar through his body, and in that instant he knew exactly what he would be capable of.

He pointed his wand at Voldemort at the exact moment Voldemort pointed his finger at Harry.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The red light and green light struck their targets at the same time. Harry slumped to the ground, unconscious. Voldemort slumped to the ground, dead.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Please review!

Ginny is not dead! But that doesn't mean everything is ok either. That's all I'll say for now.

Also, some of this might not make sense. Questions such as "how did Harry knock out the Death Eaters and get Voldemort's wand," "why did Voldemort only try to stun Harry after Ginny got hit with the killing curse," "why were Ron and Hermione so useless," etc. – they will be dealt with throughout this story. I'd like to think I have answers for everything, but feel free to ask anything in reviews. And no, this is not a super-Harry story.

Finally, I don't think this chapter turned out all that great. But I just wanted to get Voldemort out of the way. This isn't a story about defeating Voldemort, it's a story about what happens next.


	2. Memories

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World**  
**Chapter 2 – Memories**

Harry opened eyes as his memories faded to find Ron and Hermione still standing beside his bed. "I want to see her. I need to say goodbye," he told them, blinking rapidly to prevent them from seeing him cry.

Ron shook his head. "She's not dead, Harry. Not yet."

Harry's heart, which had soared at hearing Ginny wasn't dead, came crashing back down at those last two words. "What?"

"Voldemort's curse didn't kill her, probably because it was wandless and not as powerful as it would have been had he used his wand. But she's unconscious, she has been for days. They say she probably won't ever wake up," answered Ron. His voice broke as he finished. Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed it in comfort. Ron smiled at her, a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and then looked down at the floor.

Harry's mind was reeling. _Ginny… unconscious for days… might not wake up._ It was so much to take in at once. Suddenly he realized something. "Wait! Unconscious for _days_?"

It was Hermione who answered. "It's been almost a week, Harry. You've been unconscious the whole time. We weren't sure you would ever wake up."

"Is Voldemort dead? And why a week? Didn't he hit me with a stunner? And where's Ginny? I want to go see her." He started to climb out of bed, wincing at the pain throughout his body.

Hermione rushed forward and pushed him back down on the bed. "You're not going anywhere," she said in a firm tone. "Not yet. You can see Ginny soon, but for now you have to rest. Madam Pomfrey's orders."

"But…"

"No." Her voice softened. "Yes, Voldemort is dead. Yes, he hit you with a stunner. As for why you were unconscious for so long, nobody really knows. Madam Pomfrey can explain it better, but it has something to do with your magic. She said your magic was overused and that your body had all but shut down to give it time to recover."

"What caused that?" Harry asked, still glaring at her for preventing him from getting out of bed.

"We were hoping you could tell us that," she answered. "We didn't see much because of the curse…"

"Are you two ok!" Harry almost shouted. "I forgot… the Cruciatus… are you…"

"We're fine," Ron said shortly.

Harry looked at him and opened his mouth to say more, but stopped when he saw Hermione shaking her head. She gave him a look that was pleading with him not to say anymore so he didn't, filing it away to ask about later.

"We're ok, Harry. But we weren't able to see what happened. The next thing either of us knew, all the Death Eaters were knocked out and you were holding Voldemort's wand. What happened?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it. He paused. What _had_ happened? "I… I'm not sure," he said at last, frowning with confusion. "After he used _Crucio_ on both of you he had me disarmed. About 50 of them tried to disarm me all at once. My wand flew out of my hand, but there were so many curses pulling it in so many different directions it exploded. He then turned to Ginny and raised his wand to kill her.

"I felt so helpless. I didn't have a wand, the two of you were screaming in pain, he was about to kill Ginny, and I couldn't do anything with all the Death Eaters there. All of a sudden I was so angry, angrier than I've ever been in my life. But just as quickly it was gone, pushed aside by something stronger…" he faltered, suddenly embarrassed.

"Go on, Harry," Hermione urged softly.

"It was love," he mumbled, staring at his hands to avoid looking at either of them. "It wasn't until that moment I realized how much I love Ginny. Knowing that, and knowing I was about to watch her die, it was all too much. I felt like I was going to burst. Actually, I felt like I _did_ burst, just as he started to say the killing curse. I can't explain it, but I felt this surge of … something. Power? I don't know, something. I think I blacked out for a second or two, because the next thing I knew I was on the floor, all of the Death Eaters were knocked out, you two weren't under Voldemort's curse anymore, and Voldemort was wandless.

"I don't know how any of it happened, but all I could think of was to get to Ginny. I started to run towards her but stopped when I felt something in my pocket. It was Voldemort's wand. He was looking at me with such fear in his eyes that I got arrogant. I wanted to make him feel some of the fear, some of the pain, he's caused in so many others. I was so stupid…" he trailed off, struggling to control his emotions.

"Harry," Hermione said. She stepped forward, still holding Ron's hand, who had remained silent through the whole thing and was staring at the floor. She put her hand on Harry's face and made him look at her. "It's ok, Harry. Please, finish telling us what happened. We have to know."

Harry just looked at her and she could see the pain in his eyes. Her heart went out to him. "Harry, you can't keep this to yourself. Ron and I were too affected by Voldemort's curse to be aware of what was going on." Ron tried to turn away but Hermione held fast to his hand, keeping him standing next to her. Other than that she ignored him. "We need to know what happened," she continued. "And you need to talk about this. Please, tell us."

Harry broke eye contact and looked back down at his hands for a long moment. Finally he nodded. "I'll only tell this once," he said, his voice quiet and thick with emotions.

"We understand," said Hermione.

"In a flash the look in his eyes changed from fear to triumph. He raised his hand and cast the killing curse at me. In the split second I had to think as the curse was rushing towards me I realized how stupid I had been. He had been trying to lull me into complacency long enough to use his wandless magic without me having time to defend myself. And it worked perfectly, I didn't have enough time to do anything. But Ginny did…" his voice broke. He stopped speaking and fought with his emotions, determined not to cry. Not yet, at least.

"She jumped in front of me. More like fell in front of me, actually, since she was still bound. She took the curse that was meant to kill me…" his voice broke again. A few tears finally managed to escape his eyes. He swiped them away in anger. He would _not_ cry in front of his friends. The lump in his throat threatened to overpower him as his mind replayed Ginny being hit with a jet of green light and falling to the floor. He shook his head violently and finished his story.

"I… it… she… THAT BLOODY BASTARD!" he suddenly shouted, causing Hermione to jump. Ron still looked at the floor. "Everything flashed through my mind. My parents. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Tonks. The endless stories of muggles being killed. And then Ginny. I couldn't take it anymore, I let my hatred for that bastard take over. I stopped fighting it. I used his wand to cast _Avada Kedavra_ at him at the same time he cast _Stupefy_ at me. I saw my curse hit and him fall to the floor just as I was knocked out. That's all I remember." He was breathing heavily, the sudden surge of anger having tired him out.

For a moment nobody spoke. "So I guess I should turn myself in," Harry said, breaking the silence.

"What are you on about?" It was Ron who spoke, finally looking up from the floor to fix Harry with a piercing gaze.

"I used an unforgivable, and the killing curse at that. That's an immediate life sentence in Azkaban," Harry said with a sigh. He wasn't looking forward to that, but killing Tom was worth it to him.

"You can't be serious!" Ron exclaimed. "You're a bloody hero now! Nobody will care _how_ you killed the bastard, all that matters is that you did. Why do you think you're in Hogwarts instead of St. Mungo's? The press would never leave you alone there. Azkaban!" he let out a bitter, bark-like laugh that, for some reason, reminded Harry of Sirius. "You're mental. Completely mental!" He wrenched his hand away from Hermione and stormed out of the hospital wing.

After a few seconds of shocked silence Harry turned to Hermione, who was staring at the door Ron just left through with a torn expression on her face. "What's with him?" he asked.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, still looking at the door. "But I can guess. I think he feels bad about not being able to do anything. I mean, I do too. I feel terrible about it," she said, finally looking at Harry. "We were so useless! But I think it's worse for him. His sister got hurt and he wasn't able to do anything."

"Oh." Harry hadn't even considered that, but it made sense. "Hermione, you weren't…"

She waved her hand at him, looking at the door again and biting her lip. "I know. I _know_, in my mind. But it will take awhile to really believe it. But it's worse for Ron."

Harry watched her staring at the door, emotions flickering over her face. "Go after him," he said quietly.

She looked down at him. "He'll be ok. Somebody should stay with you, and everybody else is at St. Mungo's with Ginny."

"Hermione, I'm ok. Well, no, I'm not," he added when he saw the look she gave him. "But I really need some time to be alone. Please? Go after him. He needs you."

She looked torn for a second and then smiled at him. It was the first time since Harry woke up that any of them truly smiled. "I'm so glad you woke up, Harry. We were so worried. I love you so much!" she said, throwing her arms around him.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, caught off guard by her sudden burst of emotions.

She pulled back and smiled at him. "I mean that, you're like a brother to me." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back soon, and I'll bring Ron with me." She straightened up, walked over to the door, and left.

Harry laid back and sighed, suddenly unsure if he wanted to deal with the quiet in the room. Without anything to distract him his mind strayed to the memory that would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

_The fear disappeared from Voldemort's eyes and was replaced by triumph. He raised his hand and pointed a finger at Harry, who had only enough time to realize he had been tricked. "Avada Kedavra!" Ginny let out a muffled cry and lunged forward despite being bound by magical ropes, placing herself directly in the path of the green light flying towards Harry. It struck her square in the chest and she crumpled to the ground._

"Ginny…" he whispered. A tear fell down his cheek, and again he angrily wiped it away. He wasn't sure why, nobody was there to see him cry. But he still wasn't ready. Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He pushed back the bedcovers and sat up, ignoring the pain and stiffness shooting through his body. He stood up and took a few shaky steps towards the door.

"I heard voices, is he awake?" a voice Harry instantly recognized as belonging to Madam Pomfrey asked as the door to her office and private chambers opened. She froze when she saw Harry out of bed. They stared at each other for a second before she recovered. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED, MISTER POTTER! GET BACK THERE THIS INSTANT!" She took a step towards him, but halted when he held out his hand.

"No," he said quietly, but firmly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you say?"

"I said no. I'm going to see Ginny."

"You are not. The only thing you are doing is going back to bed. _Now!_"

Harry sighed, realizing a different tactic was needed. "Madam Pomfrey, I have to go. I can't take another second of laying in bed without seeing her. All I know is that she's unconscious and probably won't ever wake up. It's killing me to know that and not be sitting by her side. I have to go. I have to…"

Something in his voice gave her pause. Being a healer she was naturally a compassionate woman, and the pain in this young man's voice nearly broke her heart. It was a pain no 17 year old should ever know. Letting him go went against everything her training told her, but not letting him go went against everything her very being told her. She was about to relent when the door opened.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED!" Hermione shrieked as she walked in, Ron trailing behind her. He still looked horribly depressed, but at least he wasn't staring at the floor any longer.

Harry winced. With the two of them teaming up against him, his chances of getting out of there to see Ginny suddenly dropped dramatically.

Madam Pomfrey felt a smile tugging at her lips when she saw the look of panic that flashed over Harry's face. Hermione was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be. "He's going to St. Mungo's," she said.

The smile finally won out and spread over her face when all three of them turned to stare at her in shock. Hermione was the first to recover.

"But… but…" she sputtered. "He's not strong enough yet. He has to…"

Madam Pomfrey held up her hand. "He is extremely weak, yes. But as I said earlier after he woke up and then fell back asleep, he is no longer in any danger. I believe that keeping him here against his will can only hurt him at this point. I assume you two will accompany him?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"Good. Like I said, he is weak. He will need your help. Frankly, I'm surprised he's even on his feet right now." She turned to Harry. "I expect to see you back here before noon tomorrow so I can check you over. And if you feel ill before that, return here immediately, or at least ask somebody there for help. I'm letting you go against my better judgment as a Healer, Mr. Potter, because I trust you. Do not disappoint me."

Harry finally recovered from his shock enough to nod. "I won't," he said. "And thank you for letting me go. This is something I have to do."

"I know," she said softly. "Come now, the three of you can use my fireplace." She turned and walked back into her office, Harry, Ron, and Hermione following. She walked over to her desk and picked up a jar of floo powder, handing it to Hermione. You go first, dear. Ron, you follow, and take Harry with you. It'll be a tight fit, but I don't want Harry doing it on his own."

"I'm fine," Harry snapped, irritated at being treated like a child. He wilted under the glare she fixed on him, however. "Fine, maybe I'm not," he grumbled, scowling when she smiled knowingly at him.

Hermione went first, throwing a pinch of powder into the fire, stepping into the green flames, and calling out "St. Mungo's!" As soon as she was gone Ron threw in a pinch as well and stepped into the fire. Harry stepped in behind him and the two of them crammed themselves up next to each other, just barely fitting in the small fireplace.

"St. Mungo's!" Ron called out.

- - - - -

Harry fell out of the fireplace and onto the floor, rubbing his elbows, which he was sure would be bruised tomorrow. He reminded himself to never try a joint-floo again. Fireplaces simply weren't large enough for that sort of thing. Although, he grudgingly admitted to himself, he probably would have never made it on his own. Ron's arm around him was all that had kept him upright during the unpleasant experience of floo travel.

He and Ron, who was on the floor next to him, stood up and brushed soot off themselves. They walked over to Hermione who was standing a few feet away, looking at both of them with amusement. She gave Harry a searching look as they approached.

"Are you ok, Harry?" she asked, noticing he was trying to cover up a limp and grimaces of pain with each step.

"I'll live," was all he said in reply. He walked towards the reception desk of the deserted waiting room, Ron and Hermione hurrying to catch up with him. When they reached the desk a young, bored-looking witch put down a copy of _Witch Weekly_ and asked "Can I help you?" in a dull voice, not really even looking at them.

"Ron Weasley, here to see Ginny Weasley," Ron spoke up.

"Visiting hours are over, come back at…" she started to reply, sounding as if she was reciting from a cue card.

"Look at her file," he interrupted.

She gave him a scathing glare for the interruption but looked down and shuffled some paperwork on her desk. "Vynn, Vyrkpop, Waller, Wanderer, Wazzap, Wean, ahh, here we go. Weasley, Ginevra. 'Family allowed to visit at all hours.' Very well," she looked back up at Ron. "You can go in. But who are these two," she said, waving her hand towards Harry and Hermione.

"Hermione Granger. She's with me, and she's going in, whether you like it or not," Ron said, becoming impatient. She narrowed her eyes and started to speak, but he cut her off. "And _Harry Potter_, also with me," he finished.

Suddenly her face changed. Her eyes widened in surprise and her head whipped around to look at Harry. She stared at him for a second, her eyes automatically drifting to his forehead and looking at his scar. "You… you're… but… I mean…"

"Yes, that's wonderful," said Ron. "We're going now." He set off for the doors leading to the rest of the hospital, Harry and Hermione behind him, leaving the witch sputtering at her desk. As soon as they got through the doors Ron stopped, letting the others catch up with him.

"You handled that wonderfully, Ron," said Hermione. Ron blushed and turned to Harry. "Sorry for using your fame like that, mate, but I think it was the only way I was getting you in here."

Harry waved his hand in dismissal. "It's ok. But her reaction… I mean, I'm used to being stared at and everything. But that?

It was like she met the bloody Queen or something."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, which Harry saw. "What?" he demanded.

"You just killed Voldemort, Harry," Hermione said. "The most powerful Dark Lord our world has ever seen. A wizard that Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age, wasn't able to defeat. To most people, meeting you would be way more important than meeting the Queen of England."

Harry stood frozen in his spot. He had never really thought about that before. His thoughts turned to Ginny, laying in a hospital bed somewhere in this very hospital, and two emotions warred within him. Anger at the whole world for Ginny's situation, and a deep longing to see her. The longing soon won out. "Let's go see Ginny," he said.

The three of them set off down the deserted corridors, quiet due to it being the middle of the night. Ron and Hermione put Harry between the two of them and walked slowly, despite his protests that he was fine. They could see how tired he was and how much each step caused him pain, even if he was trying to keep it to himself.

A few minutes later they were standing outside a closed door. Ginny was on the other side of that door, laying in a bed barely hanging onto life. Dying, if what he had been told was true. He wanted to see her with every fiber of his being, but he was suddenly afraid. Would he be able to face seeing this? Would he be able to face her entire family, knowing he had failed to protect her?

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, who were standing in silence and giving him time to work things out. "Is your family in there?"

Ron nodded.

"I can't…" he faltered. Ron looked at him, confused, but Hermione nodded in understanding.

"We'll be right back," she told him, and she pulled Ron into the room.

Harry sighed and slumped against the wall across from the door, letting himself sink to the floor. He was glad Hermione understood. He felt like a coward, but he just couldn't face her family yet. He couldn't face the thousand questions they would have for him. He couldn't face the anger and betrayal he expected to see in their eyes. It might not have been very Gryffindor-like of him, but he was glad Hermione understood. He wasn't ready for the Weasley family yet.

The door opened and he struggled to his feet. Charlie walked out first, nodding at Harry as he did. Next came Fred and George, the solemn look on their faces looking unbelievably out of place. Bill came next, looking tired and haggard. Hermione and Ron walked out next, holding hands. Despite himself, Harry felt a small smile when he saw that. But the smile quickly faded when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked out of the room. Mr. Weasley looked tired but strong, while Mrs. Weasley looked dreadful. Her face was red and swollen, and her eyes looked haunted. When she saw him she broke away from her husband and rushed to his side. He braced himself, expecting a blow, either physical or verbal. But instead she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a rib-crunching hug.

"Oh Harry," she sobbed, tears flowing down her face.

"Come now dear," Mr. Weasley said, gently pulling her away. "Come on, Molly. That's it, there you go." He put his arm around her, gave Harry a weary smile, and set off down the hall. The rest of the Weasleys followed them. Hermione hung back for a second.

"We're going to tell them everything, Harry," she told him. "Everything. About where you and Professor Dumbledore went last year, about the Horcruxes, about what we've done this past year. About last week. They have a right to know."

Harry nodded, staring with dread at the door they had all just come from. "Go on in, Harry," she whispered, a lone tear escaping her eye. She turned and followed the others, leaving him standing there alone.

Harry stood frozen to the floor staring at the door, for how long he didn't know. Summoning every ounce of courage in his body, he walked forward and entered the room. It was dark, he stood just inside the doorway for a minute to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. The room smelled of hospitals, a smell Harry was all too familiar with due to the amount of time he spent in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing over the last seven years.

As his eyes adjusted he saw a bed in the room, along with several chairs. He walked over to the bed feeling like he was in a daze. He looked down and felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. There on the bed was Ginny, her brilliant red hair spread about her head on the pillow like a beautiful explosion of color. She was breathing slow, shallow breaths. Her face looked peaceful, if it wasn't for the terrible lack of color in her skin she would look like she was simply asleep. He sat down on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face, barely aware of what he was doing. He could only stare at the face of the most beautiful girl he had ever met. Suddenly a memory came to him, a memory of the last time they had spoken…

- - - - -

_It was Christmas. Ron had convinced Harry to stay at the Burrow for a few days, even though he wanted to keep searching for the Horcruxes. Eventually he had relented, admitting to himself that a few days at the Burrow did sound nice._

_It was late on Christmas Eve, the Weasleys were all sleeping. Harry stood at the window over the sink in their kitchen looking out at the full moon. He was thinking of Remus, who was enduring unimaginable hell tonight. Not only because of his transformation, but also because of Voldemort's latest attack. Harry still couldn't believe Tonks was gone…_

"_Can't sleep?"_

_He spun around, his wand in his hand, but quickly lowered it when he saw Ginny smiling at him. She was dressed in her nightclothes, her hair was a mess, and standing there in the glow of the moonlight Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful._

"_No, not really," he admitted. "You?"_

"_No. I was thinking about Professor Lupin," she said with a sigh. She walked over to stand next to him._

"_Yeah, me too." The two turned back and stared out the window for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts and drawing comfort from the presence of the other._

"_It's all so ridiculous," Harry said at last._

"_What is?" Ginny asked, turning to face him._

"_Life," he said. "What's the point of it all? All you ever get is heartache. Remus is a good man, he deserves happiness. And what does life give him? A huge stinking pile of dung!"_

"_Feeling sorry for yourself?" she asked quietly._

"_What?" he asked, surprised. "I was talking about Remus." He scowled at her, not at all willing to admit to her that he had, in fact, been feeling somewhat sorry for himself._

_She reached up and cupped his cheek. He tried to pull away but she wouldn't let him. "It's all right, Harry. You don't have to pretend around me. Life has dealt you one of the worst hands of us all yet you don't give up. You keep pushing forward. You keep fighting. You keep believing things will get better. You are one of the kindest, most loving people I have ever met, and all you've gotten out of that is heartache. You don't have to pretend it's only about other people. It's about you, also, even if you don't want to admit it."_

"_It sounds selfish if I admit it…"_

"_No, Harry, it doesn't. Everybody that knows you knows how much you care about others. You always put others ahead of your own happiness and well-being. But that doesn't mean you don't feel, that you aren't human. To deny yourself those feelings is to deny your own humanity, and if you did that, what would you be fighting for?"_

_Harry stared at her. "You sound like Professor Dumbledore," he said._

_Ginny smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."_

"_I meant it as one." They were silent for a few seconds. "I miss him so much," Harry said, surprised at himself. He didn't usually like to talk about these sorts of things. "He was…" he trailed off, not sure how to put into words what he felt._

"… _a rock," Ginny finished for him. "He was a rock we could all anchor to. He was the strong one for us all."_

_Harry nodded. "Exactly. I feel so lost without him."_

"_We all do, Harry. But we'll survive this, I'm sure of it."_

"_How can you be so sure?" he asked her, his insecurities and worries about the future making him ask._

"_Because Professor Dumbledore believed in you. That's enough for me," she said._

_Harry said nothing, touched by what she just said. He looked at her, lost in the deep feelings she was stirring inside of him. He stared into her caring brown eyes and before he even knew what he was doing he leaned in to kiss her._

_Suddenly he pulled away, mentally berating himself. Ginny was staring at him. Her cheeks were flushed and the look in her eyes told him his feelings for her were most definitely returned._

"_Ginny, I can't. I shouldn't have done that."_

_She smiled at him, a sad, knowing smile. "I know. I wish you would tell me what you, Ron, and Hermione are up to, why you aren't at school this year. But I understand why you won't. I don't like the way you try to protect me from Voldemort when I can easily take care of myself, but I understand why you do it. It's not the same as when my idiot brothers get overprotective. I understand, even if I don't like it._

"_I just wanted to kiss you one last time before I go back to Hogwarts after the holidays. Who knows when we'll see each other again. But Harry, I want you to know this. I will wait for you. I will wait for you to finish what you're doing."_

_Harry took her into his arms. He wanted desperately to tell her that he thought he was falling in love with her, but couldn't. Such strong feelings scared him more than anything had ever scared him before, both because he wasn't used to them and because he was afraid of what Voldemort could do if he learned of them. So instead he said nothing and simply held her._

_After a long while they broke apart. "Just don't take forever, Harry. I miss being with you." She gave him a light kiss on the lips, turned, and left the kitchen, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts._

_He turned back to the window and stared at the moon, now quite low in the sky._

"_I promise I won't ever let him hurt you, Ginny," he vowed to himself._

- - - - -

"I didn't keep my promise, Ginny," Harry told the deathly still girl laying on the bed. All the emotions he had been trying to keep bottled up since he first woke up finally came rushing out. He was alone in the room except for Ginny. He was sitting on the bed watching her lay there, powerless to do anything to help her. He had failed in his promise to himself to keep her safe. Now was the time to let his grief out.

It started slowly, a single tear burned as it left his eye and traveled down his cheek. He wiped it away, but it was soon replaced with another. Soon it was as if the floodgates had opened, and Harry cried like he had never cried in his life. He lay down on the bed next to Ginny and pulled her close to him, breathing in her scent and burrowing his face in her hair.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny," he choked out in between the sobs wracking his body. "Oh, god. Oh, god! It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to be me, not you! Why did you do that! Why! Why did you jump in front of that curse! I was supposed to be the one that died!"

For a long while he simply held her as he cried for a life of broken dreams. He cried for his parents, taken from him before he could even know them. He cried for Cedric, who died after selflessly giving up the sort of glory his House hadn't seen for centuries. He cried for Sirius, ripped from the world before he could even enjoy his freedom. He cried for Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age. He cried for Tonks, killed while heroically saving Hogsmeade from Death Eaters. He cried for Remus, once again completely alone in the Universe. He cried for all the people he didn't know, the people he would never meet who had lost loved ones in the War. But most of all, he cried for Ginny. The beautiful, wonderful, sweet, gentle girl that captivated his heart but lay next to him unable to wake up from what Voldemort did to her.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't strong enough…"

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Well, there's chapter two. It's a bit longer than the first chapter, and, at least for awhile, the chapters will probably get steadily longer. I'm not really sure how long the story will eventually be. I doubt it will turn into one of those 300,000 word epics, but it will be quite long most likely. I have a pretty good idea where I want to get to, but how exactly I get there still isn't completely worked out.

Also, just to make a few things clear that I should have made clear in the first chapter's notes. There will be something of a plot, but this is primarily going to be a character-driven story rather than plot-driven. I also forgot to mention the ships. It's obviously starting out as Harry/Ginny, but it won't exactly stay that way. You'll see what I mean as the story progresses. It will be Ron/Hermione also. Probably others among minor characters, but those are the major ones.

Please review!


	3. A Heartfelt Goodbye

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World**  
**Chapter 3 – A Heartfelt Goodbye**

"There's one thing I don't understand," said Charlie, breaking the silence. Ron and Hermione had just finished telling the rest of the Weasleys everything. They told them about Harry's lessons with Professor Dumbledore during their sixth year. They told them about the mission Harry and Dumbledore went on the night Dumbledore died. They told them about the search for the last four Horcruxes that had filled their last year. They told them everything Harry had told them about the final battle with Voldemort. When they finished the entire Weasley family had sat there in silence, trying to understand everything they had just been told.

"What's that, Charlie?" Hermione asked.

"Why Harry? Why did Dumbledore leave all of this on him?"

There were murmurs of agreement as the rest of the family thought about it. "That boy had been through so much. Why _did _Albus have to leave all of this on him?" Molly demanded, her protective streak instantly kicking in.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron raised his eyebrows. "Should we tell them?"

Hermione thought about it for a minute. "I don't see why not. It's over now, we don't need to worry about keeping it a secret."

"What are you two on about?" asked Fred.

"Is ickle-Ronniekins keeping secrets?" asked George.

"Oh shut it you two," Ron said with a sigh. He turned back to Hermione. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"All right, then," said Ron. "None of you are to tell a soul about this. I mean this, not a _soul_. It's up to Harry if he wants more people to know about this, but all of you should know at least. All right?"

They all nodded, intrigued with Ron's tone. It must be something really big if he was talking this way to all of them, especially his parents. Ron nodded at Hermione. "You tell them, you understand these things better than I do."

Hermione smiled at him and then turned to everybody else. "There was a prophecy, as you all know from guarding it in my fifth year. But what you don't know is what the prophecy said. It was a prophecy made to Professor Dumbledore shortly after Harry was born."

"Wait, how do you know all this?" Molly asked. "Albus never did tell us anything about it. All he ever said was that it was vital that we keep it safe, and later that it was smashed during that ruckus in the Department of Mysteries."

"That was only a recording of it that was smashed, Professor Dumbledore held the original in his pensieve. He told all of this to Harry right after all that happened. He also told him what the prophecy said. Harry told Ron and I when he came to stay at the Burrow between fifth and sixth years."

"Do you know what it said?" asked Molly.

Hermione nodded. She closed her eyes and drew up the memory of Harry telling them the prophecy, recalling the exact words. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

The room was deadly quiet. Nobody made a sound while processing this on top of everything else they had learned tonight. Arthur was the first to speak, his eyes closed and his face a mask of concentration.

"It has been awhile, but if I recall correctly, that prophecy did not necessarily mean that Harry was the one. Frank and Alice had managed to escape from You-Know-Who three times when Neville was born." Hermione and Ron both made a face at his use of 'You-Know-Who' instead of 'Voldemort' but remained quiet. "Neville was born at the end of July," continued Mr. Weasley. He opened his eyes. "How did Albus know it was Harry?"

"Professor Dumbledore and Harry discussed that," answered Hermione. "Harry told us Professor Dumbledore pointed out the last part of the prophecy. _'The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal.'_ That's exactly what Voldemort did the night he tried to kill Harry and left him with the scar."

"What about _'the power the Dark Lord knows not?_'", asked Bill. "What power is that? Harry is a strong wizard, and I mean no disrespect to him, but he's no Dumbledore. How did he have the power to defeat You-Know-Who" (Ron and Hermione scowled again) "when the most powerful wizard since the Founders couldn't do it?"

When Hermione didn't answer Ron did. "Dumbledore told Harry it was his heart, his power to love."

"His heart? Love?" replied Bill. "Harry's a great kid. He cares so much about everybody else. But how does that give him a power strong enough to defeat You-Know-Who?"

Ron shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't think what Harry told us tonight was a coincidence, though. He said it was right after he felt overwhelmed by his feelings for Ginny and the knowledge that he was about to watch her die…" Molly made a choking sound at this and Arthur put a comforting around her shoulder. "… that he somehow managed to knock out all the Death Eaters and get a hold of Voldemort's wand even though his wand had been destroyed," finished Ron. He looked over at Hermione, surprised she didn't have anything to say considering she was the smartest one in the room, but he saw that she looked lost in thought.

"Why didn't he tell us any of this? Why didn't you? Why keep everything hidden from us?" demanded Molly.

"As far as the prophecy goes, that was up to Harry to tell, not me or Hermione," said Ron. "He didn't want anyone else to know. He claimed it was for their own protection since Voldemort would go to any lengths necessary to learn what that prophecy said. It just wasn't up to us to tell you," he said with a shrug.

"It was more than that," said Hermione, breaking out of her thoughts. "Harry hated what the prophecy meant. He hated that he was destined to either be murdered or become a murderer. He was ashamed of it. He actually told us earlier tonight he was going to turn himself in for using the Killing Curse against Voldemort. Can you believe that? He was actually expecting to get a life sentence in Azkaban!"

There were murmurs of surprise around the room at this. "Azkaban… a life sentence for defeating You-Know-Who… unbelievable. How does a man like that come from a childhood with people like those muggle relatives of his?" muttered Arthur. The rest of them looked at him in surprise. He was not a man to speak ill of others, no matter how much he disliked them. To actually hear him say something bad about somebody else, even if it was the Dursleys, was unheard of.

Fred and George exchanged a look that didn't go unnoticed by the woman who raised them. "Fred and George," she growled. "Whatever idea you've got, don't even think about it. You'll just leave Harry alone, understood?"

Both of them nodded and muttered in agreement, but a quick look between them that even Mrs. Weasley missed was all they needed to see they both had the same thought.

"That explains the prophecy," said Molly. "But what about the rest? You three were off putting yourselves into such danger all year and you never even told us about it!"

"Before he died Professor Dumbledore told Harry he could tell Ron and I about the Horcruxes, but no one else," answered Hermione. "Harry took him seriously. He wouldn't even tell Professor McGonagall where he and Professor Dumbledore went the night Professor Dumbledore died. Harry has a lot of respect for her, it really hurt him to have to refuse her. But it was essential as few people knew about the Horcruxes as necessary. If Voldemort had even suspected that we knew and were searching for them it would have jeopardized everything."

"But you could have trusted us!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

"We know that, Mum," said Ron, "but it wasn't up to us. It was up to Harry, and he was doing what Dumbledore told him to do. He knew he could trust you, but he also knew how important this was. What if one of you had been captured? It could have ruined everything. This was the only way."

"But…" she began.

"Molly," Arthur interrupted softly. She turned to glare at him for interrupting her, but the glare soon faded as they looked at each other. Without any words spoken they seemed to reach an understanding. She turned back to Ron and Hermione.

"Well, I'm glad Harry had you two at least," she said at last. "I'm glad he didn't have to face this alone."

"He tried," Hermione said with a sad smile.

"But we wouldn't have it," finished Ron.

"Speaking of Harry facing things alone," said Fred, "and since we seem to be learning all sorts of things about dear Harry tonight…"

"What happened with him and Ginny?" finished George, picking up on where his twin was going. "Our people in Hogwarts told us they seemed so happy together," he said.

"But then they just broke up. Ginny didn't even seem too upset about it either," said Fred.

"Your 'people in Hogwarts?'" Hermione asked, amused.

"We have people _everywhere,_ my future sister-in-law," said Fred. Hermione blushed a crimson red and Ron made a choking sound.

"But don't change the subject. What happened with them?" asked George.

"That's really none of your business, you know," Hermione snapped, a little put out by the sister-in-law comment and still blushing a brilliant shade of red.

"He wanted to protect her, didn't he?" asked Bill quietly.

Hermione looked at Ron, unsure of what to say. Ron took the hint and shrugged. "He never really talked about it," he said, his tone making it clear the conversation was over. And it was the truth, Harry hadn't ever wanted to talk about it. Although Bill had arrived at the same conclusion Ron and Hermione had they didn't admit that to him. It really wasn't their place to say.

"Well, some good that did," Charlie muttered to himself. Bill, who was sitting right next to him, overheard him and raised his eyebrows but gave no other sign he had heard.

They talked for a few more minutes before Bill left, saying he had to get home to Fleur and would be back early in the morning. Charlie left soon afterwards followed by the Twins. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley tried to convince Ron to go home to get some rest but with both Harry and Ginny here he would have nothing of it. And Hermione insisted she was staying also.

A few minutes later Ron was standing in the corridor outside Ginny's hospital room. He had told Hermione and his parents to go ahead, he would just be a minute. He needed a moment to himself before he went into the room.

It was still so hard for him to see Ginny like that. Unlike the rest of his family he hadn't had a week to get used to it since he and Hermione had sat with Harry most of that time. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to it. He wasn't sure he ever _wanted_ to get used to it. He never wanted to stop hating himself each time he walked into the room and saw her. It was what he deserved for being so useless in the final battle. He had just frozen with fear the moment he saw Voldemort. Sure he could say the name but, as he had found out that night last week, having no fear of the name was not nearly the same thing as having no fear of the thing itself. He shivered when he thought about that night…

- - - - -

"_Lumos," a voice hissed in the darkness._

_Ron winced as the room was flooded with light. His heart jumped as he took in his surroundings. They were surrounded by Death Eaters. He squared his shoulders and gripped his wand tighter. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He was thinking of which hexes would be the most effective when he saw him._

_Voldemort._

_There he was. The most feared Dark Lord of all time. Standing amidst his Death Eaters, standing taller than the rest of them. A thin, tall man with pale skin and a face that reminded Ron of a snake. And those eyes…_

"_Brilliant deduction, Weasley," he hissed. He was looking right at Ron. It felt like his red eyes were seeing right through Ron's very soul, feeding off the terror they found there. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Harry had stood up. Ron wanted to help him, to do something, but he couldn't. It was as if he was outside his body watching the whole thing take place. Except for the suffocating terror he felt. No, he was definitely inside his body. Harry and Voldemort were talking now but Ron couldn't make out what they were saying. Think! Concentrate! It did no good._

_GINNY! He heard Harry scream out her name. He screamed it too. Or did he only scream it in his head? He wasn't sure. Suddenly Ginny was on the floor, writhing in terrible convulsions. Harry yelled something and her convulsions stopped but a second later they started again. Harry and Voldemort were talking again and then suddenly Harry went flying backwards. Ron pulled himself out of his terror. 'Get it together, Weasley!' he told himself._

_He turned to face Voldemort, his wand ready to launch a hex. But just as he opened his mouth Voldemort turned and looked at him. He looked Ron directly in the eyes, stopping Ron in his tracks. Those eyes…_

"_Crucio! Crucio!"_

_Pain. Terrible, unbearable, agonizing pain. It coursed through every cell in his body, not one bit of him was safe from the pain. His chest hurt. His stomach hurt. His legs hurt. His arms hurt. His back hurt. His feet, hands, fingers, toes, head, mouth, ears, nose, eyes. Even his hair hurt. It felt like he was being blasted to shreds by a million hexes all at once. It was the sort of pain words don't even begin to describe._

_Ron opened his mouth and screamed. He screamed until his throat was raw and sound no longer came out. And even after he was incapable of sound he screamed anyway, a silent, agonizing scream. He wanted to just die and be done with it._

_And suddenly it was over. He had no idea how long it had lasted. It could have been five seconds, five minutes, five days, or five years. He lay on the ground panting for breath, feeling as though his body would never be pain-free again. He hurt everywhere but it wasn't the blinding, searing pain from before, now it was just a terrible ache._

_There was a flash of green light and the sound of a body hitting the floor. Somewhere deep within Ron's mind he knew that was a bad thing but he was slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing Ron was aware of was a second flash of green light._

- - - - -

Ron came back to the present and found himself still standing outside the door to Ginny's room in St. Mungo's. Hermione had been the first one to regain consciousness and a few minutes later Ron had woken to find Hermione peering over him with tears in her eyes. They were the only two conscious in the room and had gone for help as soon as they realized there weren't any anti-apparition wards.

Ron sighed. He was disgusted with himself for not doing more to protect his little sister. Harry had fought and killed Voldemort while Ron could do nothing but cower in fear and stand there waiting to be cursed. And he had let Hermione be hurt too. He felt like such a failure. With those thoughts to keep him company he walked into Ginny's room.

His parents were standing just a few steps inside the room, Hermione next to them. They were all looking farther into the room. Ron followed their gazes and felt his heart break at what he saw. Ginny lay in her bed as she had for the last week. Harry was asleep in a chair beside her bed, one hand holding Ginny's hand and the other resting on his chest. His glasses sat askew on his face in front of eyes that were red and puffy. It was obvious he had been crying.

It was disquieting for Ron to see his best friend like that. Harry was the strong one, he always had been. Even at Dumbledore's funeral he had been strong, only allowing a few tears to show while everyone else was lost in their grief. To see him look so utterly vulnerable emphasized that everything was not going to work out this time. Even though he already knew it in his head it made Ron truly realize for the first time that his little sister was not going to wake up.

He looked over at the others and saw similar expressions on their face to what he figured was probably on his own. After a minute Hermione turned and met his eyes. She looked as lost as he felt. Somewhere in the back of his head he heard Fred's comment about a future sister-in-law and blushed faintly before brushing it aside. Without stopping to think he crossed the distance between them with a few quick steps and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her stiffen briefly and then return the embrace. He had no idea what any of it meant and wasn't interested in figuring it out tonight. All he knew was that hugging Hermione felt nice.

- - - - -

"You should probably get back to Hogwarts to see Madam Pomfrey, Harry," said Hermione quietly.

It was early the next morning. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had all stayed overnight with Ginny. Harry and Hermione were the only two awake, the others were asleep, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in two chairs and Ron on the floor, snoring loudly. Hermione sat in a chair by the door reading a book and Harry still sat beside Ginny's bed. He had been awake for several hours, staring at Ginny and brushing her hair out of her face every so often. That simple act comforted him for some reason. Harry looked up at Hermione.

"It's not even 8 yet, she said I had to be back at noon," he protested.

"No, she said you had to be back _by_ noon," corrected Hermione. "She said you should go back immediately if you didn't feel well. She's trusting you."

"I feel fine, Hermione."

"Harry, you look terrible…"

"Well, what do you expect?" he snapped, sounding much nastier than he had intended. "A bloody song and dance?"

He felt bad the moment he said it, made worse by the look on Hermione's face. She was only trying to help and he had just made her look like she was on the verge of tears.

He sighed. "Hermione, I…" he never got to finish his thought.

"HARRY POTTER!" a booming voice echoed off the walls as the door swung open with a loud _BANG!_ Arthur awoke with a start and nearly fell of his chair while Molly cried out in fear. Ron snorted in his sleep and rolled over on the floor without actually waking up. Two tall men in dark robes swept into the room with wands drawn, their cloaks billowing out behind them. They both wore scowls on their stern but otherwise unremarkable faces.

Harry had his wand out so fast Hermione blinked in surprise. She never even saw him draw it. "Who are you? What do you want?" Harry demanded, eyeing them suspiciously.

The two men surveyed the room in silence, their wands pointing at Harry the entire time. Then one of them spoke in a booming, authoritative voice.

"Are you Harry James Potter?"

"I am. I asked you who you were and what you wanted." Harry spoke in a soft but menacing voice.

The man who spoke started to reach for his pocket.

"Hold it!" Harry called out. "What are you doing?"

"Son," the second man spoke in an equally commanding voice. "We already have our wands drawn. If we intended to harm you I guarantee you would already be unconscious. My colleague is reaching for a badge."

"A badge?" Harry repeated. The first man again reached for his pocket, this time more slowly, and pulled out a badge. He held it up for Harry and the others to see. Harry could clearly make out the letters MLE surrounded by the crest of the Ministry of Magic. Each badge also had the letter 'A' imprinted on the bottom.

"As you can now see," the first man said, "we are Aurors with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You are to come with us."

Harry started to lower his wand, a look of resignation on his face, but Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Why are you taking him?"

"We have a warrant for the arrest of Harry James Potter," the first man said.

"What are the charges?" Arthur asked.

The first man nodded to the second, who pulled a piece of parchment from his robes and unrolled it. He glanced at it and then passed it to Mr. Weasley.

--- WARRANT FOR ARREST ---  
Name: Harry James Potter  
Charge: Use of the Killing Curse  
Signed: Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic

Arthur stared at it for a long minute before wordlessly passing it to Harry, who barely looked at it before passing it back to the Auror. He was surprised with himself. The moment the Auror pulled out the badge he had known why they were there, it was what he had dreaded most since waking up. But now that it was actually happening he felt nothing. The numb feeling that had been there ever since he had woken up that morning persisted.

Harry held out his wand which was quickly plucked away by the Auror who had just produced the arrest warrant. The first man grabbed him by the arm and turned to lead him out the door.

"Now wait just a minute!" Arthur cried out. "You can't be serious! This young man just defeated You-Know-Who and you're going to repay him by _arresting _him!"

"We have our orders," the one holding on to Harry said in a curt voice. The two Aurors and Harry took a step towards the door before Hermione stepped in front of them. Her own wand was drawn.

"You will not take him," she growled in a low voice.

"Step aside girl, we don't wish to harm you," one of the Aurors said.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but was stopped by Arthur, who had rushed to step between her and the Aurors. "This isn't fair!" he roared. "Let him go! I work for the Ministry also!"

The Auror not holding on to Harry took a step forward and peered at Arthur through narrowed eyes. "Arthur Weasley. Low-level bureaucrat. You don't work for the ministry, you _serve_ the ministry. Step aside or we will inform the minister when we deliver the prisoner that you interfered with a lawful arrest."

Arthur looked as if he had been stricken. He started to raise his wand.

"Don't," Harry said in a soft voice. He looked directly at Mr. Weasley with pleading eyes. "Please don't. Don't get yourself into trouble over this."

Arthur started to protest.

"Please…" Harry pleaded.

Arthur looked torn, and the Aurors used his indecision to make for the door again. Hermione pointed her wand, along with Arthur, who seemed to come to a decision.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Mischief Managed!"_

A puff of smoke suddenly flooded the room, blinding everybody. Mrs. Weasley cried out. Harry stood absolutely still, trying to work out what had happened while the smoke rapidly cleared. The room began to come into focus as the smoke cleared. Arthur and Hermione both stood with their wands drawn. Molly was standing in a corner almost shaking with emotion considering everything that had happened recently. Fred and George stood exactly where the two Aurors had been. Harry stared at them in confusion for half a second before it clicked.

"Good thing you added in that anti-hex charm to the smokescreen, dear brother," said George.

"I _told_ you we would need it," said Fred.

The twins surveyed the room, cocky smiles on their faces. "You lot really fell for it. I almost gave it away. It was so hard not to laugh," George told them.

"What… How…" Arthur sputtered. Hermione and Molly said nothing but Hermione glared at them in barely controlled anger, having figured it out just as Harry had.

"Auror-For-An-Hour," said Fred smugly. "Our newest invention. It changes your appearance and transfigures your clothes into Auror Uniforms, complete with the badge and everything."

"It's illegal to impersonate an Auror!" Molly cried out.

George sighed. "Inconvenient, I know. That's why they're not on sale yet. This was our first field test as a matter of fact." He broke out in a grin. "A resounding success if I do say so myself," he added.

"Indeed," Fred agreed.

"I can't believe you would do that!" Hermione shrieked. "After what we told you last night! You two are the most unbelievable, irresponsible, stupid, big-headed, immature IDIOTS I've ever met!" She was working herself into such a rage her cheeks were turning pink.

For a minute the room was silent. Hermione, Molly, and Arthur glared at the twins, who were quickly beginning to wonder if their prank had been such a good idea. The silence was finally broken by a quiet chuckle.

"That was pretty good, guys," Harry said, breaking out in a large grin. "Definitely one of your best pranks yet. I think your mum is right, though, you probably shouldn't put that on sale."

Fred and George grinned at him while the other three stared in shock. That wasn't the reaction they had expected out of Harry. "Glad to be of service, Mr. Potter," Fred said with an eloquent bow. George gave a fake salute.

"We're going to get coffee, we'll be back," Fred said. With that the two twins swept out of the room.

Ron snorted in his sleep and rolled over on the floor without actually waking up.

- - - - -

Arthur Weasley was livid. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this angry. He had been so sure he was about to lose Harry only to find out it was just a joke. A stupid, irresponsible practical joke. He watched his two sons inform them they were going to get coffee and leave the room.

"I'll be right back, all of you stay here," he growled. He stormed out of the room without waiting for an acknowledgment. If he had he would have seen a look of surprise pass between the three conscious and awake people in the room. They had never heard him use that tone before.

Arthur saw his sons nearing the end of the hall. "Fred! George! Wait there!" he called out. They both turned around and smiled at their approaching father, smiles which faded when they saw the look of fury on his face.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WERE YOU THINKING?" Arthur roared.

The twins blinked. Neither had ever heard their father raise his voice like that before.

"You mean the prank?" asked Fred.

"That was the most irresponsible thing either of you have ever done!" yelled Arthur, slightly quieter after realizing he was getting a lot of odd looks from people passing in the corridor.

"Come on, Dad…" George said.

"Just shut your mouths and listen to me," Arthur interrupted. George stopped in mid-sentence, opening and closing his mouth in shock.

"That was a horrible thing to do," he continued. "That young man actually thought he was going to be arrested. And what about your mother? What about Hermione? Did you see the looks on their faces? They were absolutely TERRIFIED! Don't you ever consider anything beyond how to get your next laugh!"

Fred was the first to recover. "Of course we do," he said.

"You certainly didn't show it this morning!" Arthur snapped.

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" George shouted back. "We only did this to try and cheer up Harry! And in case you forgot, he laughed! It's probably the first time he's laughed since he woke up last night!"

"It's not…" Arthur started.

"Is this about the 'low-level bureaucrat' and the 'you serve the ministry' thing?" Fred asked, interrupting his father. "If it is, we're sorry about that. We didn't mean anything by it. You know we don't think that of you. We just had to come up with something we could say if you tried to interfere, something that sounded like what your typical arrogant Auror would say."

Arthur waved his hand in dismissal. "I don't care about that. This is about your disregard for everybody and everything but your search for the perfect joke. You hurt people this time. Get out of my sight, I don't want to look at either of you right now."

Fred and George stared at him with twin expressions of anger and hurt on their faces. "Come on, brother of mine, let's go where we're appreciated," George said with a scowl. He whirled around and disappeared down the corridor. Fred stood there for a second longer before turning and following his brother.

Arthur watched them disappear, scowling after them. When they were gone he turned to go back to Ginny's room but stopped before he could take a step. Molly was standing several feet behind him. Her eyes were wide with shock.

"Arthur..." she began.

"Not now, Molly," he snapped.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and then marched over next to him and grabbed his arm. "Come with me," she demanded while dragging him into an empty room next to Ginny's. She pushed him so that he sat down on the bed and stood over him, glaring down at him.

"What has gotten into you?" she demanded, her eyes boring into him.

Arthur felt himself wilting under her stare. He winced once the anger faded and he realized what he had said. He hadn't meant to be that harsh with them.

"Nothing, Molly, I'm fine," he said.

"No, you're not. I've never seen you lose control like that before, Arthur. Talk to me," she insisted.

"It's just that… well, you see…" he trailed off. How could he explain it to her? He didn't even really understand what was wrong himself.

"Arthur…" her tone was softer. "Arthur, look at me." Molly sat down on the bed next to him and lifted his head so that his eyes were looking at hers. "Tell me what's bothering you," she gently prodded.

"I thought I was going to lose him," he blurted out. "First Ginny, and then…" he stopped, took a deep breath to compose himself, and smiled at his wife. "I'm fine, dear."

"Arthur, you're not fine. You've been so strong for me all week, but we're partners, remember? You don't always have to be the strong one. Let me take care of that, even if just for a few minutes."

Arthur looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and found he couldn't stop himself from talking. It felt so good to unload it all, even if it wasn't until that very moment that he realized he had been repressing this all week.

"It wasn't supposed to be Ginny, Molly. I've always known the odds of our family surviving this thing intact weren't good with there being nine of us. But if it had to be anybody, it was supposed to be me. And Merlin help me for saying something so terrible, but if not me than at least one of the older boys. They've already had time to live some of their lives. It just… it wasn't supposed to be Ginny!" His eyes were burning with unshed tears. Molly put her hand over his and stroked it soothingly.

"I know, dear. I know," she whispered.

"And then when they came for Harry I thought I was going to lose him too. I love all our children so much, but Ginny… she was my baby. My beautiful little princess. And Harry, he's like one of our own. But it's different than the other boys. He's never had anybody. He needs somebody to look out for him. I thought I was about to lose both of them at once… Oh, why did it have to be Ginny?" He finally stopped rambling and fell silent for a second.

"It just wasn't supposed to be her!" One of the tears finally managed to escape and fall down his cheek. Molly brushed it away and pulled him into a tight embrace. All week Arthur had been the strong one. For a few minutes, alone in an empty hospital room, he let her be the strong one.

- - - - -

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace but managed to remain on his feet, a miraculous occurrence for him. He brushed the soot out of his hair and looked up to meet the gaze of the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall.

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter," she said in a crisp, business-like voice.

Harry nodded and did as he was told. He took a quick glance around the office, an office he hadn't been in since the night a year ago when Albus Dumbledore was killed. It looked different, and yet the same. Gone were all the whirling, smoking instruments that used to be scattered throughout the room. Gone also was the perch where Fawkes used to sit. In their places sat a few mild decorations but the room looked extraordinarily empty without them. Harry also noticed the portrait of Dumbledore, the same portrait he had noticed that night last year, remained above the desk. Dumbledore appeared to be sleeping.

Harry looked into the piercing gaze of Professor McGonagall, wondering what she wanted. They hadn't gotten along very well after he refused to give her any details about what he and Dumbledore had been doing the night he died. He was pretty sure she was hurt that Dumbledore hadn't confided in her, the two of them seemed to have shared a close friendship. He felt horrible about not telling her what she had wanted to know but he had his reasons.

"I'll make this brief, Mr. Potter, so you can get back to Madam Pomfrey," she began. "I asked her to send you here first to inform you that the Ministry of Magic is demanding to speak with you. They want to know exactly what happened last week. They wanted to speak with you immediately but, given your circumstances…" she paused, and for a brief second he thought he saw a flash of emotion behind her cool gaze, but it was quickly gone.

"… I managed to convince them to wait a few days," she continued. "Today is Monday, you have an appointment with the Minister Friday afternoon. You really must go, if you don't they will send Aurors for you. As for what you tell him, that is between the two of you."

Harry winced as he caught the meaning behind her last sentence. He nodded. He had been expecting to have to speak to the ministry eventually. He had already decided he would tell them everything. There was no need to keep things hidden any longer. "I understand," he said out loud.

"Good. Madam Pomfrey is expecting you. You may floo directly to her office," Professor McGonagall said.

Harry nodded and stood up. He was halfway to the fireplace before he stopped and turned around, a sudden question popping into his head. Given everything that happened he never even thought to ask anybody.

"Professor?"

She looked at him, a hint of emotion again in her eyes for a brief second before it disappeared. "Yes?" she asked.

"How did Voldemort get Ginny? Wasn't she here at Hogwarts?"

Professor McGonagall blinked, then frowned. "We don't know," she said in a cool voice. She sighed and spoke again in a softer voice. "We really have no idea at all. I'm sorry." Her voice hardened again. "If that is all…" she looked down at the parchment on her desk, clearly dismissing him.

Harry sighed. He felt terrible their relationship had deteriorated so far. He never felt as close to her as he had to Dumbledore, but he looked up to her and held a great deal of respect for her. _Maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell her everything now,_ he thought to himself. _The whole story is going to come out on Friday anyway…_

"Professor?" he said, his mind made up.

She snapped her head up and glared at him. "Yes, Mr. Potter!" she snapped in a brisk, curt tone.

Harry started. It almost looked like there was anger in her eyes as she stared him down. He suddenly lost his resolve. "Nothing, sorry," he muttered. He quickly walked over to her fireplace and threw in a pinch of floor powder. He stepped into the green flames and called out "Madam Pomfrey's Office!"

After a momentary whirl of spinning fireplaces and rushing wind he flew out of a fireplace and crashed to the floor. "So much for thinking I was improving," he muttered as he picked himself up off the floor.

He heard rushing footsteps and then a door opening. "I thought I heard a crash in here," he heard Madam Pomfrey say. He looked up and smiled at her sheepishly.

"I've never been good with floo travel," he admitted.

Madam Pomfrey cracked a faint smile and gestured behind him towards her desk. "Have a seat, Mr. Potter. I want to talk to you."

Harry nodded and turned around… and froze. He looked around for a second, taking in the scene in front of him. The office was completely bare except for several boxes piled in the corner. The bookshelves, the table, the desk; everything was completely bare except for one book on the desk. He hadn't really paid attention last night in his rush to get to St. Mungo's, but now that he thought about it the boxes were there then as well. He turned back to Madam Pomfrey, his eyes wide.

"Are you leaving?" he asked.

She nodded. "I am, actually. Come, sit down," she said as she walked over and sat down behind her desk. Harry stood frozen to his spot for a second before shaking himself out of his stupor and walking to her desk. He sat down in a chair facing her desk.

"Where are you going?" he asked, hardly believing Madam Pomfrey was actually leaving Hogwarts.

"I'm retiring at the end of the term next week. I'll be staying through graduation in two weeks but after that I'm leaving the castle."

Harry was dumbfounded by this. Madam Pomfrey running the infirmary was one of the things about Hogwarts he had never imagined being able to change. "But… you can't… you're not that old!" he burst out.

She smiled at him. "Why thank you," she said. "But I am older than you might guess. And that's only part of why I've decided to retire. I have other reasons as well, personal reasons."

"Oh," was all Harry said. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the thought of Hogwarts without Madam Pomfrey. He had only been in the castle a few times since Dumbledore's funeral last year but it was reassuring to know it was still there and that it's workings remained constant. _Well, most of them at least,_ he thought wryly as he thought about all of the different DADA professors the school had employed in recent years.

"What are you thinking?" she asked him.

Harry looked up, started out of his own thoughts. "Oh, just about how… well… I never imagined you would leave. I know it doesn't make much sense but I guess I just pictured you here forever," he admitted.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I understand," she said. "That is how I felt about Professor Dumbledore," she said quietly.

Harry nodded to show he felt the same way but remained quiet.

After a minute she continued. "I have been at Hogwarts for more years than I care to admit, for more years than Professor McGonagall, in fact. In all those years I have seen many people come and go, but there was one who was here right from the very beginning. Professor Dumbledore.

"He wasn't the Headmaster when I first started but now, looking back, I can barely remember a time when he was here and not the Headmaster. This school was his, to me it still is, but he's not here anymore. I just can't get used to that. I feel stuck in the past at a time when this school desperately needs to move forward.

"But it's more than that, Mr. Potter. I have seen more injuries to students in this war than I ever imagined. I have seen families ripped apart by tragedy, parents break down with grief right here in this very infirmary. This should have been a place to administer Pepper-Up Potion and heal minor Quidditch injuries, not a place to provide triage to front-line battle casualties.

"I hate what this war did to all of us. I hate the way this world we live in allowed so many of their battles to be fought by children. I stayed these last few years because I felt I had to, but I hated patching people up only so that they could be sent back into battle. It all felt so pointless.

"Now that the war is over, I guess I just want to go somewhere quiet and relax. I'm tired. I want to rest. Maybe do a bit of traveling here and there, but mostly just rest. I don't want to do something that feels pointless to me anymore."

Madam Pomfrey fell silent. Harry was shocked at how honest she had been with him. He was shocked to hear how much the war had affected her. Through all his years at Hogwarts she had been one of a very small group of people that he had seen as pillars of strength and wisdom. Now Professor Dumbledore was dead, Sirius was dead, Professor McGonagall would barely speak to him, Professor Lupin hadn't been heard from in months, and Madam Pomfrey was retiring because it had all just become too much for her. The only one who didn't seen any different was Hagrid. It really made him realize it wasn't just him and the people close to him that were affected by the war. It had deeply affected the entire Wizarding World.

Harry spent a few quiet moments lost in his thoughts. Eventually Madam Pomfrey stirred and cleared her throat. "About why I asked you to come back, Mr. Potter," she said, changing the subject.

"You wanted to check me over, right?" he asked.

"Not exactly. Tell me, are you feeling better today? Do you have more energy? Do you feel less sore?"

Harry thought for a second. "Yes, actually. All of those. I feel much better today."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "You will improve quickly, in a few days from now you'll be good as new. You really don't have anything to worry about, just be careful not to tire yourself out too much."

Harry frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how do you know? You haven't even examined me." Harry was confused. Madam Pomfrey usually only arrived at conclusions after exhausting poking and prodding with her wand, and now she was telling him he had nothing to worry about without even so much as a simple diagnostic spell. It was quite out of character for her.

Madam Pomfrey was quiet for a few seconds as she studied him. "You were brought here instead of St. Mungo's for a very specific reason, Mr. Potter."

"To avoid the press, I know," Harry said, remembering what Ron had told him.

"That was part of it, yes, but the staff at St. Mungo's are capable of handling the press. No, there was another reason you were brought here."

"What was that?" Harry asked, intrigued and a little annoyed Ron hadn't told him the entire truth.

She was again quiet for a few seconds as she studied him. "When you arrived here last week you had a variety of injuries. Most were minor, just various bumps and bruises that quickly healed. But there were two other injuries – a curious burn on your wand hand and a mysterious coma that didn't seem to be caused by any sort of detectable injury."

Harry looked down at his hand. "A burn? How did that happen?" he asked, looking at his perfectly normal hand.

"It has fully healed," she told him. "As for how it happened, at first I wasn't sure. I also couldn't explain your coma. I started researching similar injuries, it took me a few days but I eventually found a helpful reference in an unlikely place." She paused.

"Where?" Harry asked.

"Professor Dumbledore's private diary," she answered.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"A few weeks before he died he came to me and gave me his diary, all 19 volumes of it," she said in response to his unasked question. "He told me that it was important I have it, that I shouldn't read it then, but that I would know when the time was right to use it. He wouldn't say anything else no matter how many times I asked, and eventually I forgot about it. Last week, after I had exhausted every other book I knew of, I was sitting here in my office thinking about how much I wished Albus was here to help. That's when I remembered his diary.

"I skimmed through a lot of it looking for anything relevant. That man certainly led an interesting life," she said with a faint blush, making Harry wonder just what that diary contained. "I had to go all the way back to 1945 before I found something relevant. Do you know what happened in 1945?"

Harry frowned, thinking. After a few seconds it came to him. "Grindelwald," he said.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "It is common knowledge that Albus defeated Grindelwald in 1945. What is not common knowledge is _how_ he defeated Grindelwald. He used the Killing Curse."

Harry stared at her in surprise. He had certainly not expected that. In Harry's mind Professor Dumbledore was the pinnacle of light, to use something so firmly entrenched in dark magic to defeat Grindelwald shocked him. He didn't know what to say, but Madam Pomfrey seemed to understand as she continued speaking.

"After using it he passed out. He had a variety of injuries from his duel that were quickly healed, but two remained… a curious burn on his wand hand and an unexplained coma. The burn healed by itself after about a day and Albus did eventually wake up on his own. By this time your burn had already healed on its own so I just left you alone, and just like Professor Dumbledore you did wake up on your own.

"At the time he didn't really know what had caused the strange injuries, but there are several diary entries over the years which show he never stopped thinking about it. His last entry on the subject, about ten years ago, stated his belief that the injuries were a result from casting the killing curse. Would you permit me to read part of his entry to you?"

Harry nodded numbly, feeling as though his head was about to burst with everything he had been forced to process in the last day.

Madam Pomfrey picked up a deep purple leather-bound book, one of the only things on her empty desk, and turned to a marked page. She set the bookmark aside and began reading.

"_The only conclusion I can come to is that these injuries were a result of the casting of the Killing Curse. As with all the Unforgivables the caster must mean it for it to work. But unlike the others, especially the Cruciatus Curse, we are all capable of wanting somebody dead. The difference between light and dark wizards is our reasons for such desires.._

"_In the moment before casting the curse at Grindelwald I wanted him dead. I watched him kill so many of those that were dear to me. I watched him disrupt our world and plunge us all into fear and terror. He caused so much pain that I was absolutely convinced, as I still am, that the world would be better off with him dead. I did not enjoy the thought of becoming a murderer, I expect that burden will never stop weighing heavily on my soul, but I was sure that I wanted him dead._

"_That was all it took for the killing curse to work. I truly did mean it and so it worked. But that is where the injuries come in, at least in my belief. Avada Kedavra is based in terribly dark magic. I did mean for the curse to work and as such I was able to kill Grindelwald, but my intentions were not those from which dark magic draws its power. The result appears to be that it only worked by channeling all of the magic I held within me in order to make up for the lack of dark intentions necessary for successful dark magic. All of this energy was channeled through my wand._

"_This would explain both injuries. The coma was due to a complete drain of my magical reserves while the burn was due to my wand overloading from the amount of power channeled through it._

"_If correct, this is most intriguing. It doesn't change the fundamental truth about the Unforgivables, you must mean them for them to work, but it does change our understanding of what this means. You can truly mean for the Killing Curse to work without actually holding dark intentions within you. I feel I must give more thought as to what this means."_

Madam Pomfrey stopped reading and looked up. "That's all he wrote on the subject. I'm not sure if he ever gave it more thought than that."

Harry sat in silence. So much of what Professor Dumbledore had written exactly mirrored his own thoughts about what he had done. He hadn't really had time to think about them yet as he had been dwelling on his grief and guilt over Ginny, but the fact that he had used, and more importantly, been _able_ to use, the Killing Curse had not sat well with him. To learn that Dumbledore had struggled with the exact same issues himself was comforting in some small way.

He looked up at Madam Pomfrey. "Can I…?" he started to say.

Before he could finish she held up a stack of parchment. "This is a copy of every entry in his diary that pertains to his use of the Killing Curse. I thought you might like them. If you don't mind, though, I would like to keep the actual diaries."

Harry nodded. That was fair, he had given them to her after all. Harry reached across the desk and took the parchment from her, securing it in a pocket in his robes.

"Thank you," he said.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "You're welcome." There was a moment of silence and then she spoke again.

"There is one other thing. Albus was unconscious for three days, you were unconscious for a week."

Harry looked at her, confusion evident on his face. "What does that mean?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. Perhaps it means your curse was more powerful than his. Perhaps it means you are even less full of dark intentions than he was. Perhaps nothing. I really don't know. I just thought you should know."

Harry nodded.

"That's why we kept you here all week. We did originally bring you here to avoid the press, but we kept you here instead of transferring you to St. Mungo's after I discovered those diary entries. We weren't sure how the Ministry would react if they learned you had cast a killing curse."

"Would they have been able to figure it out from my injuries?" Harry asked.

She shrugged. "I really don't know, but I didn't want to take the risk."

Harry nodded again. He was going to tell the Ministry everything on Friday, including his use of the killing curse, and he honestly had no idea how they would react. But just as before, when he had thought he was about to be carried away by Aurors, he didn't really feel all that bothered by it. The ministry could do whatever they wanted to him and it wouldn't even compare to the guilt he already felt over both killing another man, even if it was Voldemort, and what happened to Ginny.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to understand his silence. "Mr. Potter," she said. He looked up at her. "Take what Albus wrote in those entries to heart. And when you read them, just remember that you aren't the only one who has ever had to struggle through this. Professor Dumbledore was a wonderful Wizard, the greatest of our age according to most people. Does knowing that he used the Killing Curse to defeat a Dark Wizard change your opinion of him?"

"Not in the least!" Harry said adamantly.

"Then don't be so reluctant to accept the same about yourself," she said.

Harry blinked. It sounded so simple when she said it like that. And yet, it wasn't. Or was it? He just wasn't sure, not yet at least. But he appreciated what she was trying to do.

"Thank you," he said. There was a moment of silence and it became apparent their meeting was drawing to a close. Harry thought about what she had told him when he had first arrived.

"I mean that," he said. "Thank you. For everything. I'm not sure if I ever actually said that before, but thank you for all you've done for me over the years. Your infirmary was pretty much my home away from home."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Don't mention it, Mr. Potter. You certainly kept life interesting around here."

Another moment of silence. Harry stood up and Madam Pomfrey did the same. He looked around the empty office and sighed. "I still can't believe you're leaving," he said at last.

"Hogwarts will survive without me," she said.

Harry looked at her. "I'm sure it will, but it won't be the same. You were important to a lot of us, even if we never told you that." He was embarrassed to see what looked like tears in her eyes.

He thought again about what she had said earlier. "Madam Pomfrey," he said quietly. "About what you said earlier, about how it all felt so pointless…"

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, don't pay any attention to that," she said airily. "I was just rambling, of course I don't think that."

Harry studied her for a few seconds. Despite what she had just said he got the feeling she wasn't entirely sure how she felt. It was something he understood perfectly.

"You did make a difference," he told her. "Both in the war and in the lives of the students that have passed through here over the years."

She didn't say anything.

"Last Christmas I was feeling rather depressed with the way everything was," he continued quietly. "I asked Ginny what the point of it all was," he said, trying to reign in the flood of emotions that threatened to wash over him as he thought about the last time they had spoken, the last time they had kissed.

"What did she say?" Madam Pomfrey asked softly.

"She didn't really answer my question. She just told me that I keep pushing forward, I keep fighting, I keep believing things will get better, because it's just what I do." He paused, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

"I still don't know what the point of it all was, I don't think she did either. But she was right about it just being what I do. I'm not sure there even is _supposed_ to be a point to all of it."

Another pause.

"I don't know what I'm trying to say," Harry said, giving up for the moment on sorting out his jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions. "But you did make a difference. Of that I am absolutely sure."

Madam Pomfrey sniffled, again making Harry embarrassed. "Thank you, Mr. Potter… Harry. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"So are you going to stay, then?" he asked.

She chuckled. "No, Harry. I really do feel as though the time is right for me to retire. I think you've helped me realize that I really did matter in some way all these years, and for that I thank you, but it doesn't change the fact that I just want to rest."

Harry nodded. He realized suddenly that a good portion of the Wizarding World probably felt like they needed an extended vacation now that Voldemort was dead. It was just another realization that drove home to him how far-reaching the effects of this war had been.

"Well, I should be getting back," he said, feeling a pain in his heart as he pictured Ginny laying motionless in her room at St. Mungo's.

Madam Pomfrey saw the shadow that passed over his face. "Don't let it overwhelm you, Harry. You have to live your life. It's the best way to honor her."

Harry nodded without really listening. He wasn't ready to imagine what life would be like once Ginny actually… he pulled himself out of his thoughts, unable to face even the thought of it.

"You've grown up so much in the seven years that have passed since you first came here," she said as she studied him. "Your parents would be so proud of the man you've become."

He looked at her in surprise. "You knew them?"

"Of course, I've been here for a very long time, remember? The two of them got off to a rocky start, each one landed in here more than once thanks to hexes from the other. But they loved each other so much and they managed to figure it out eventually. You turned into exactly the sort of man they would have wanted you to."

Harry's heart ached in a painful yet good way at her words. He had heard similar things about his parents many times before but coming from her, a woman who always held herself with integrity and dignity, it was somehow different.

"Thank you," he croaked, his voice almost overcome with emotion. He walked over to the fireplace and then turned back to look at her.

"Will I ever see you again?" he asked.

"One can never say, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Right then. Well, good luck with everything," he said, cringing at how stupid and generic his words sounded. He never did like goodbyes.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at him. It was one of the widest and most sincere smiles he had ever seen on the face of the usually stern woman. "The same to you, Harry. Live your life to its fullest, try to find some happiness. Merlin knows you've earned it."

"So have you," he told her sincerely. He nodded at her one last time, threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace, and stepped into the dancing green flames to floo back to St. Mungo's.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Another chapter completed. This one kind of took off in length. It will probably be a few more chapters before I figure out how long to make each chapter and become more consistent. Until that point the length might jump around a bit.

I don't remember if Harry actually Ron and Hermione the wording of the prophecy or just the general idea of it in HBP, and I don't have my copy at the moment to look it up. If he didn't tell them the actual wording just assume he did at some other time.

Ron and Hermione are _not_ together. Not yet, at least. It will take a long time for that to develop. Their hug in this chapter was just something brought about by the emotions of the situation. Dealing with their feelings for each other and what that hug meant isn't something either of them is ready for yet. Luckily for them I plan to write a long story!

I've realized that what I've written so far might come across as boring. If it does, then you're probably not even still reading. If you are, all I can say is that I'm sorry. There is a plot but, as I already said, this is more character-driven than plot-driven. There's actually more like about 10 little plots, some of which you already know about, others I'm setting up but you probably haven't picked out yet, and others that haven't been introduced at all yet. Along with all that there is a sort of general plot that relates to the title of this fic, but it's definitely not your standard action/adventure type story. If that's what you're looking for you probably won't find it here. Sorry!

Please review!


	4. Meeting the Minister

_Thank you, **damariam**, for being the first to ever leave me a review_

_Thank you, **MattD12027, **for providing unofficial beta services and very helpful comments, as well as for naming Anna Conway_

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World  
Chapter 4 – Meeting the Minister**

Hermione put down her book with a sigh. When she had picked up the book she had been looking for something to distract her mind, but the only book in sight had been _Magical Cooking: 101 Recipes for Feeding Hungry Witches and Wizards_, which Mrs. Weasley had probably brought with her from home, and it just wasn't doing the job. She had too much on her mind.

First of all there was Ginny. Hermione gazed across the empty room at the red-headed girl laying on the bed. She found it so hard to reconcile the vibrant, energetic, always full of life Ginny Weasley in her mind with the pale, motionless girl before her. She wasn't as close to Ginny as she was with Ron or Harry, but she was her only real girl friend. She just couldn't believe she was actually going to die. Her mind knew it on some level, but she found it nearly impossible to accept.

And then there was Harry. In all the years she'd known him she couldn't ever remember seeing him as he was now. He looked broken, he looked like he had been shattered and would never be put together again. It was normal, considering what had just happened, but she was concerned. Harry never did anything halfway, he saw everything in terms of absolutes. Losing Ginny could destroy him, and Hermione was determined to find ways to keep that from happening.

Part of her was also trying to understand what happened during the fight with Voldemort. She didn't understand how Harry had been able to do the things he said he did. She didn't understand what Professor Dumbledore had meant about love being Harry's power. She hated not understanding. What she really wanted was to go home and get her textbooks. She wanted to pour through them all until she found something to explain what had happened and what love had to do with it. She felt a smile come to her face when she imaged what Ron would say if she admitted she wanted to do nothing but read her textbooks…

Ron. He was there, looming over all the other thoughts racing through her mind. All of the excuses she had convinced herself of over the years – they couldn't risk their friendship, it was too dangerous, it would distract them from what they needed to do – none of them seemed to matter now that Voldemort was dead. Well, no, that wasn't true. They would still be risking their friendship, but what was a life without risk?

Hermione blinked in surprise at herself. She wasn't sure where that last thought had come from. She had never been one to go about taking unnecessary risks, it was irresponsible to do that. _Maybe all these years hanging around Ron and Harry have finally rubbed off on me. Or maybe it's a necessary risk…_

She blinked in surprise yet again, unsure of where all these thoughts were coming from. She never had this much trouble controlling her own thoughts in the past. But now something was different. She had felt it when Ron gave her that hug last night, but that wasn't where it started. If she was honest with herself she knew exactly when their relationship had changed. They had both danced around their feelings for months, years actually, but neither had even come close to admitting them to the other. Until last night, that is…

- - - - -

_After a few seconds of shocked silence Harry turned to Hermione, who was staring at the door Ron just left through with a torn expression on her face. "What's with him?" he asked._

_"I don't know," Hermione sighed, still looking at the door. "But I can guess. I think he feels bad about not being able to do anything. I mean, I do too. I feel terrible about it," she said, finally looking at Harry. "We were so useless! But I think it's worse for him. His sister got hurt and he wasn't able to do anything."_

_"Oh." A pause. "Hermione, you weren't…"_

_She waved her hand at him, looking at the door again and biting her lip. "I know. I know, in my mind. But it will take awhile to really believe it. But it's worse for Ron." She trailed off, still staring at the door. She was really worried about Ron but somebody needed to stay with Harry. She had never felt so conflicted before._

_"Go after him," she heard Harry say quietly._

_She looked down at him. "He'll be ok. Somebody should stay with you, and everybody else is at St. Mungo's with Ginny," she protested weakly._

_"Hermione, I'm ok." She fixed him with a glare. "Well, no, I'm not" he added quickly when he saw her glare. "But I really need some time to be alone. Please? Go after him. He needs you."_

_Hermione felt a rush of love for Harry. Not the same kind of love she knew she felt for Ron, even if she wasn't ready to admit it yet, even to herself, but love nonetheless. He was such a good friend. Even with all he was going through right now he showed more concern for his friends than himself. She smiled at him. "I'm so glad you woke up, Harry. We were so worried. I love you so much!" she said, throwing her arms around him._

_"Hermione!" he exclaimed. She smiled, knowing she was embarrassing him, and pulled back. "I mean that, you're like a brother to me." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back soon, and I'll bring Ron with me." She straightened up, walked over to the door, pulled it open, and stepped outside._

_She didn't have to go far. She found Ron a few steps down the hall sitting with his back up against the wall. He had his knees pulled up to his chest and his head buried in his hands. She stood there for a moment before speaking._

"_Ron?" No answer. "Ron?" Again, no answer. "Ron, please…"_

"_Go away," she heard him mumble into his hands._

_Ignoring him, she did just the opposite. She walked the few remaining steps between them and sat down next to him. She stared at him for a long minute but he didn't look up, speak, or even move to acknowledge her presence. She tentatively reached out and touched his shoulder._

_Ron flinched away. "Go away," he mumbled again, still not looking up. She again ignored him and put her hand on his shoulder a second time. "I said GO AWAY!" he roared, lifting his head finally to glare at her._

_Hermione felt her heart skip a beat when she saw his face. There was a tear running down his cheek, and that in itself was shocking. Ron just didn't cry. But it was the intensity of emotions in his eyes that captivated her. She could see pain, sadness, and something else… shame? After a few seconds Ron put his head back down into his hands._

"_Ron, look at me," Hermione urged softly. When he didn't answer she reached out and gently lifted his head until he was looking at her. She took it as a good sign that he didn't flinch away from her touch this time. She said nothing as they stared into each others' eyes. She didn't want to push him, knowing he would speak when he was ready. That was something she had figured out over the years with Ron, if you tried to push him to do something it would just drive him to do the opposite._

"_I should be the one they put in Azkaban, not Harry," he said at last. Hermione just looked at him, waiting for him to continue. When she didn't say anything he kept going. "I just stood there and let it all happen. I let him hurt Ginny. I let him hurt Harry. I let him hurt you…" he stopped, his voice choking with emotion. When it became apparent he wasn't going to say anymore Hermione finally spoke._

"_Should I be put in Azkaban then?" she asked._

_Ron looked at her like she was crazy. "What? Of course not!" he exclaimed._

"_Than why should you?" Ron started to answer but she interrupted him. "I did exactly what you did, Ron. I saw Voldemort for the first time and everything – EVERYTHING – I knew went right out the window. I thought I was ready, I thought I was prepared, able to face him. I thought I knew exactly what I would do when the moment finally came. But when I finally came face-to-face with him, I froze. I couldn't do anything. Part of his power was his ability to inspire terror in those around him. I knew that and I still couldn't do anything. So if I don't deserve Azkaban, why do you?"_

_Ron shook his head. "It's not the same," he argued. "Ginny… my sister… she's my baby sister! It was my job to protect her! It was my job to protect you!"_

"_It was all of our jobs to…"_

"_No, you don't understand!" Ron interrupted. "Ginny is going to die because I stood there and did nothing! NOTHING! And you…" he choked back a sob and went quiet for a few seconds. "I let him hurt you," he whispered._

"_Ginny is hurt because of Voldemort, not because of you," Hermione said quietly, unable to echo Ron's words that Ginny was going to die. "And you didn't let him do anything to me," she added._

_Ron shook his head again. "You still don't understand," he said. "I… you… I swore I'd never let him hurt the people I love. And not only did Ginny get hurt, but you did too. I… I couldn't protect the two girls I love most. I'm a bloody failure…"_

_Hermione's eyes widened as she heard what he said. She looked into his eyes, wondering if he was saying what she thought he was saying. "Oh Ron," she said, reaching out to cup his cheek. He tried to flinch away but she wouldn't let him. She leaned towards him and looked into his eyes. "You're not a failure. You're one of the most loyal and brave men I know." She continued to stare into his eyes, losing herself in the intensity of his gaze. She felt herself leaning closer to him…_

"_Did you hear that?" she asked, sitting upright quickly. "It sounds like Madam Pomfrey yelling!" Both she and Ron jumped up, putting aside what had almost happened in order to see that everything was ok. She grabbed his hand and the two of them raced back to the infirmary._

- - - - -

"Where is everybody?"

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Harry's voice. She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway.

"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked.

"I asked where everybody was," he said.

Hermione looked around the hospital room, empty except for the two of them and, of course, Ginny. "Oh. Mr. Weasley had to go to work, he wasn't able to get any more time off. He managed to convince Mrs. Weasley to go home and get some rest, but she probably won't stay away for more than a few hours. Ron went back to our flat to shower and change his clothes."

"Oh," said Harry in response. He sat down in the same chair he slept in the night before and stared at Ginny for a few minutes. Hermione didn't say anything, she didn't know what to say to him. "So where were you just now?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh?" She looked at him in confusion. "I've been here the whole…"

"No, no," he said, waving his hand in dismissal. "You looked a million miles away when I walked in. What were you thinking about?"

Hermione blushed, and then chastised herself for blushing. _Get a hold of yourself! You're acting like a lovesick puppy!_

She didn't say anything but her blush must have given her away because Harry smiled and asked, "Any idea when _Ron_ is coming back?"

"Right now, mate," said a voice from the door as Ron walked in. "Been back awhile?" he asked as he plopped down in a chair.

"No, I've only been here a minute or two," he said. He scowled as he thought about his trip back, a scowl which the others noticed.

"Everything all right?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I just had a hard time getting from the floo back to this room."

"What? You and Hermione were both supposed to be added to the list of visitors allowed to be here at any time," Ron said with a frown. "I took care of it before I left."

"Oh," Harry said. "No, not that. But… thank you," he added, touched by the fact Ron had even thought to do something like that. "No, I was attacked by the press the second I got here. Somebody must have tipped them off that I'm here," he said, scowling for the second time.

"You know, you're going to have to face them eventually," Hermione said gently.

Harry directed his scowl at her for a few seconds but dropped it when he realized she was right. He sighed. "Yeah, I know. Just… not yet," he said. Hermione nodded, content with his answer.

"What did Madam Pomfrey say?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked up at her, not answering right away. _What did Madam Pomfrey say?_ He was still struggling to process everything he had learned in his conversation with her. Hermione, however, misunderstood his silence.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "You're ok, aren't you? I mean, you're not…"

"I'm fine," he interrupted her.

She gave him a suspicious look. "You always say that," she said.

Harry chucked, realizing she was right. "Yeah, I guess I do. But really, I'm fine."

"So she checked you over and everything?" Hermione asked, still not convinced.

"Yes," he lied. For some reason he just didn't want to tell anyone what he had learned about his injuries, and about what he had learned about Dumbledore. He wanted to understand it better before talking about it with anybody. "It's just," he continued, remembering the other thing he had learned today, "Madam Pomfrey is leaving. She's retiring. It kind of caught me by surprise."

"Is she really that old?" Ron immediately asked. "She doesn't seem old enough to retire."

Harry nodded. "That's what I thought. Actually," he added with a sheepish grin, "that's what I told her."

Hermione sighed. "You'd think boys never learned the definition of 'tact,'…" she muttered to herself but loud enough for the others to hear.

"Yeah, well, _anyway,_" he said, giving Hermione a mock glare. "She said she was older than I might think. She told me she's been at Hogwarts longer than anyone but Professor Dumbledore."

"She really doesn't look that old. I had no idea," Hermione said thoughtfully.

Harry nodded again. "Yeah. But she said that wasn't why she was leaving…" he paused, suddenly realizing Madam Pomfrey had shared some very private thoughts with him. It wasn't his place to tell Ron and Hermione everything she had told him. "She just wants to rest now that the war is over. I think she feels worn out from it all," Harry said, deciding that part of it wasn't too personal.

For the next hour the three of them sat and talked quietly. They didn't really discuss anything in particular. Instead they mostly made small talk, all three of them seeming to abide by some unspoken agreement not to discuss anything important. With Ginny right there with him it almost felt like it was the way things used to be. Until they looked over at her and were reminded of her current condition, that is, but for the most part Ron and Hermione tried to avoid doing that. Harry, however, could barely take his eyes off her for more than a few seconds at a time, and as time went on he withdrew further and further from the conversation.

After a lull in the conversation lasting a few minutes, Hermione, who had been shooting anxious glances at Harry and awkward glances at Ron for awhile now, stood up. "Well, I think I'm going to go home for a little while," she said.

Ron looked up from the Quidditch magazine he had been reading. "Oh, can you grab my…"

"No," Hermione interrupted. "I mean _home_. To see my parents."

"Oh," Ron said, his eyes wide with surprise.

Harry looked up as well, pulling himself out of his thoughts for a few minutes. Hermione had avoided the subject of her parents ever since she went home last year to tell them she wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts for her last year. She had come back in a foul mood, mumbling things under her breath Ron and Harry had been shocked to hear come from her mouth, and then refused to speak about it afterwards. Eventually the two of them had just let it go, realizing they weren't going to get her to talk about it. Although Harry never admitted it he felt guilty about whatever had happened. If it wasn't for him Hermione would have gone back to school and avoided whatever fight with her parents he had caused. Hearing her mention her parents for the first time in several months brought back the guilt in a sudden rush. "I'm sorry," he blurted out.

Hermione looked at him with raised eyebrows. "For what?" she asked.

"For… everything," he said with a sweep of his hands. "I don't know what happened, but obviously your parents didn't like the fact that you weren't going back to school. You would have gone back if not for me. It's my fault you got into a fight with them."

Hermione let out a sigh and opened her mouth to speak, but Ron beat her to it. There was a hint of anger in his voice. "Look, I'm only going to tell you this once. We made our own choices and we knew the consequences. I don't want to hear you apologize to either of us ever again. We _decided _to stick by you. We _decided_ to take the risk and accept the consequences."

"Ginny didn't," Harry mumbled. Ron paused, his mouth still open, unable to respond to that.

"Harry," Hermione said as she sat back down. "I told them about Voldemort. Not about the Horcruxes or about what we were going to be doing, just about Voldemort. I had always lied in the past and told them he wasn't a big deal because I was afraid they'd try to pull me out of Hogwarts if they learned how dangerous he really was. But last summer I told them the truth. They were really angry at me for lying to them. And then when I added in that I wasn't going back to school because I was going to help in the fight against Voldemort – that's all I told them, basically the same thing Ron told his Mum, that we were going to help fight against him and that I couldn't tell her where we were going to be living – well, they pretty much blew up. We had a huge row.

"I've never fought with them like that before, it was terrible. We all said some pretty horrible things. I ended up just leaving, right in the middle of our argument when I couldn't take it anymore. I haven't talked to them since."

For a few seconds there was silence as Ron and Harry thought about what Hermione said. It was finally an answer to a question both of them had wondered for nearly a year.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Hermione said. "We fought because I lied, not because I was going off to help you fight Voldemort. I shouldn't have lied to them, but, judging from their reaction when they finally found out the truth, I'm not sure it was such a bad idea."

Harry nodded in reply. He still felt guilty that he had kept Hermione from her parents for nearly a year, Ron too, for that matter, but he knew they would both just argue with him if he tried to apologize again. So he didn't say anything.

Hermione stood back up. "Anyway, now that it's all over… I just figured it's time I go talk to them. I don't know how it's going to go. I might just be going back to pick up a bunch of stuff I left there. I really don't know…" she trailed off. She shook her head. "Oh, listen to me, I'm rambling. All right, I'm just going to get this over with."

"Good luck," Ron said.

Hermione walked to the door and then turned around. "Thanks, Ron," she said. She looked at Harry for a few seconds, watching him stare at Ginny. Then she looked over at Ron and met his eye for a second before he blushed and looked away. With a great sigh she left the room.

"Want to play a game of chess?" Ron asked.

Harry didn't answer. He didn't even look up.

"Guess not," Ron mumbled.

- - - - -

"Harry, wake up."

Harry groaned.

"Wake _up_!"

Harry groaned again and attempted to swat away whatever it was that was poking him.

"That's it, time to break out the big guns. SLYTHERIN'S GOING TO WIN THE QUIDDITCH MATCH!"

Harry jumped up and looked around, his eyes bleary with sleep. "What?" he mumbled. "Did somebody say something about Slytherin?"

Bill Weasley chuckled. "I had a feeling that would wake you up," he said. "It always used to work for Charlie."

As he started to wake up more Harry became more aware of his surroundings. He was still in the hospital room, he must have fallen asleep in the chair next to Ginny's bed. It was much darker in the room now that no light was coming in from the window, making Harry realize he had slept for several hours if it was dark out now. Bill and Fleur stood nearby, Ron was standing near the door, and Charlie was in the corner of the room.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Late," said Bill. "Nearly midnight."

"Midnight…" Harry repeated. The last he remembered it had been early afternoon and he had been sitting next to Ginny's bed, alternating between feeling completely numb and feeling overwhelmed with emotion. "I guess I fell asleep," he said.

"Yeah, everybody's exhausted," Bill said. "Mum's been asleep all day, she must have been really tired. Look, the three of us," he said while gesturing to himself, Fleur, and Charlie, "are going to stay tonight. You and Ron should go home."

"No," Harry said instantly. "I want to stay."

"You're exhausted, Harry. So is Ron. Go home."

Harry frowned. "I think I'll stay here, thanks."

Charlie took a step forward, scowling at Harry, but Ron spoke first. "What good is staying here going to do?" he asked. "Do you think Ginny wants you to kill yourself trying to stay here all the time?"

Harry opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He knew the answer to that question, but he still had to stay. He was trying to figure out how to explain it when Bill spoke again.

"Look, you've been out of it all week, so you don't know how we've been doing things. We've been taking turns staying here with her. Nobody can stay all the time. So we take turns so she's never alone. Go get some rest, Harry. You need it," Bill urged.

Harry looked at Ginny for a long minute before finally relenting. "Fine," he sighed. "But I'm coming back in the morning."

Bill nodded. "Just as long as you get some rest tonight, ok?"

Harry nodded. He walked over to join Ron at the door, but stopped and turned back to look at Ginny again. Bill had sat down in the chair recently vacated by Harry while Fleur bustled about the room, making comments about how dreadful hospital rooms were and how the room needed a bit of cheer. But Charlie, he hadn't moved. He was still standing near one corner of the room, the deepest of scowls on his face as he glared at Harry.

Harry looked down, unwilling to meet the accusations he saw reflected in Charlie's eyes. They were the same accusations he had been expecting when Mrs. Weasley had first walked towards him last night. _I guess at least one of them blames me after all,_ he thought sadly. He looked back up and met Charlie's eyes. After a second he nodded, trying to acknowledge he accepted the blame. Charlie's scowl remained unchanged but something unrecognizable flashed in his eyes for a split second before he finally looked away and walked over to Bill, sitting down silently next to him. With one last glace at Ginny Harry let Ron lead him out of the room.

The two walked silently down the quiet corridors. They were heading for the lobby's designated apparition point so they could apparate back to their flat in Muggle London. They rounded the last corner…

_POP!_

Harry was blinded by a brilliant flash of light.

"Harry, over here!"

"Harry, look this way!"

A succession of brilliant flashbulbs popped around him.

"Mr. Potter, a few words?"

"Harry, why are you here?"

"Harry, if you could just…"

"Mr. Potter, how did you…"

"What do you think…"

Overcome by the flashes and sudden roar of voices, Harry pulled out his wand. The room instantly quieted as the lobby full of reporters watched Harry Potter, the young man who had just defeated one of the worst Dark Lord in all of history, look around frantically with his wand pointing at all of them. Seeing no escape route he did the only thing he could think of, he disapparated with a twist of his wand, ignoring the fact he was violating Magical Transport Law by disapparating from a public building without using the designated apparition point.

He appeared in the living room of the flat he shared with Ron and Hermione with a soft _POP_. He immediately sunk down onto the couch, struggling to control the sudden rush of anger he felt. _They have no right! I'm in there watching Ginny die, and because of me at that, and all they want is my picture and a few words about how I killed Tom. Bastards! All of them!_ With a growl of frustration he slammed his fist down on the coffee table, shattering one of the glass panes and cutting his hand open.

"Feel better?"

Harry jumped up and whirled around, his wand drawn, but lowered it when he saw Hermione standing in the doorway to her bedroom, leaning against it and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really," he muttered.

"What happ…"

Hermione was interrupted by another _POP_ as Ron appeared in the living room. "Thanks so much for leaving me to deal with them, Harry," he said as soon as he appeared. "Bloody press…" he trailed off as he spotted the blood dripping from Harry's hand. "What happened to your hand?" he demanded.

Hermione stepped forward. "He tried to beat up the coffee table, but I think it did more damage," she said, understanding why Harry had been so upset after hearing Ron mention the press.

"I held my own just fine, thanks," he said, gesturing towards the broken glass with his uninjured hand.

Hermione smiled weakly. "Hold out your hand," she instructed. Harry did what he was told and watched as Hermione used a simple spell to heal the cut. She then turned and pointed her wand at the coffee table. "_Reparo."_ The glass gathered up and arranged itself back into place, erasing all evidence of Harry's recent tantrum.

"Thanks," Harry said, a bit embarrassed now that his anger was fading.

"You're welcome. Next time, beat up your own furniture. I happen to like that table," she said with a playful grin.

Harry felt himself smile in return. "I'll keep that in mind."

"So, how did it go? With your parents?" Ron asked, unable to restrain himself any longer.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, how did it go?" he asked, mentally kicking himself for forgetting all about it. He knew he wasn't being a very good friend lately.

"Oh, it was _wonderful,_" she said, sitting down on the couch. Ron and Harry joined her. "They knew everything that happened with the war the last year. Apparently they've been getting the _Daily Prophet_ ever since I left, they said they wrote Professor McGonagall and asked if she could get them a subscription. I told them everything we've been doing this last year, and they understand why I couldn't tell then any more than I did at the time last year."

"So everything is all right between you and them now?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "We talked for hours. We all felt bad about the things we said to each other last year. We're still not perfect, but things are a lot better than they were. They want to come see our flat, actually. I think my Dad just wants to make sure I have my own room, he didn't seem too happy when I said I was living with two guys."

Ron got a funny look on his face, Harry didn't say anything. Hermione saw both of their reactions but ignored Ron for the moment. She was worried about Harry, his emotions had been all over the place ever since he woke up from his coma. "I had an idea…" she said.

"Oh no," Ron muttered. Harry smiled at that but the smile didn't really reach his eyes.

"Anyway," Hermione pushed on. "I brought back the rest of my books from home," she said.

"You have _more_ books!" Ron interrupted. "Your room was already full with them!"

"Those were only the books I thought I would need," Hermione said bluntly. "I left the rest at home, but I brought them back with me. I was thinking… well, that we could…"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I think we should study for our NEWTS," she blurted out, half expecting Harry to blow up simply for suggesting doing anything that didn't involve sulking and sitting in Ginny's hospital room all day. Instead he simply thought about it for a few seconds.

"We can't take them this year, aren't they taking them right now?"

Hermione nodded. "Oh yeah, I know. We'd never be ready anyway. We missed an entire year of school, plus we need time to review everything we already learned. No, if we start now, I think we could be ready by the time they give them next year."

Harry thought about it. He hadn't given any thought to what he was going to do now that the war was over, he wasn't able to think of a future right now. NEWTS seemed a perfect way to deal with that problem. He could put off making any decisions for another year, he would have his NEWTS if he ever did decide to do something where he needed them, and he could stay close to Ginny. He looked over at Ron. "What do you think?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "It's probably a good idea," he said, clearly not thrilled with the idea of studying but acknowledging it was probably something worth doing.

"Sure, let's do it," Harry said to Hermione.

She jumped up. "Great! I was hoping you would say that, because I've already started making up revision schedules. I should go finish them so we can start tomorrow!" She rushed off to her room.

"We've unleashed a bloody monster. You know that, right?" Ron asked quietly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning." He stood up and headed towards the door to his room.

"Night, mate," Ron called out.

"Night," Harry said as he entered his room and closed the door behind him.

- - - - -

Harry, Ron, and Hermione began studying the next morning as part of Hermione's revision schedules. She had their work planned out for the next several months, and promised to finish schedules through taking the NEWTS next year within the week. Following her schedules the three fell into a routine of studying during the day at St. Mungo's while keeping Ginny company, relaxing at home for a few hours in the evening, studying for another hour or two at night, and then going to bed. The week passed quickly and, before Harry knew it, Friday had arrived.

"All right," Hermione said, putting a stack of books down on the table they had set up in Ginny's hospital room, "today we're reviewing fourth through sixth year Charms. This afternoon we should probably take a few hours to…"

"Oh!" Harry interrupted. "I almost forgot. I have an appointment with Scrimgeour today at 4. Well, not really an appointment, seeing as though I don't have a choice about going."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione asked.

"And what do you think he wants?" Ron added.

"I honestly just forgot about it," Harry answered. "And when I saw McGonagall at Hogwarts on Monday she told me the Ministry wanted to know exactly what happened with Voldemort. He probably wants to try to convince me to publicly support him again or something, too."

"What are you going to tell him?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry looked her in the eye. "The truth. All of it. Starting from what happened in the Department of Mysteries when Sirius died, and going all the way up until Voldemort died. I'll tell him everything. I'm sick of lying or keeping things to myself. There's no reason to keep secrets anymore, and I'm not going to lie about how I killed him either."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. "We're going with you," Ron said. Hermione nodded.

Harry smiled. "I had a feeling you might say that. You really don't have to, you know. I doubt Scrimgeour wants you there, the two of you showing up will probably just annoy him."

"Good," Ron exclaimed. "Maybe Percy will be there and it will annoy him too. Kill two birds with one stone."

"Besides," Hermione added. "We can probably help you tell the story, maybe fill in details you don't remember or…" she trailed off.

"Or don't want to talk about?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. Harry smiled again. "Thanks. I'd like it if you both came, but you don't have to."

"We know," said Ron. "But we're coming anyway."

Hermione gasped. "Oh no! This is going to mess up our schedule…"

- - - - -

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, here for an appointment with the Minister of Magic," said Harry, crammed into the small red telephone box along with Ron and Hermione.

There was a pause before the same female voice that had just spoken a few seconds earlier spoke again. "Thank you. Visitors, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes." Just as Harry remembered, there was a click and a rattle, and a moment later three square silver badges slid out of the coin return. He took his and handed the other two to Ron, who took his and handed the last to Hermione.

For several seconds there was silence, broken eventually by Ron. "What the hell is this? Some kind of joke?" he demanded, holding up his badge for the other two to see. Printed on the badge were the words:

_Ronald Weasley  
(smells like poo)_

Hermione frowned. "I was about to ask the same thing, actually." She help up her badge as well.

_Hermione Granger  
(likes to sniff donkey butts)_

Harry looked at the other two badges and then back to his own. Without a word he also held his up so everyone could read it.

_Harry Potter  
(has a small wanker)_

No one said anything at first, and after a few seconds Ron burst out laughing.

"I'm glad to see _somebody_ finds this amusing," Harry grumbled, thinking he definitely got the worst of the three badges.

"No, no," Ron gasped, taking deep breaths to stop laughing. He wiped a few tears from his eyes. "It's just that, well… I think I know what's going on."

"Oh?" Hermione asked.

"Fred and George… they've been talking for years about how much fun it would be to modify the visitor badges," Ron explained. "I guess they finally went and did it."

Hermione opened her mouth, and from the look on her face it didn't look like she was about to praise the twins for their creativity. Luckily, however, Ron and Harry were spared from whatever rant she was about to go off on by the cool female voice.

"Visitors, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

With a scowl Hermione did as she was told. Ron looked over at Harry, shrugged, and pinned the badge onto his robes as well. Harry briefly considered throwing the badge away and leaving but, thinking nothing would make Scrimgeour happier than an excuse to send Aurors after him, did the same with his own badge.

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." The floor of the telephone box shuttered and, after a minute of descending into the ground while making a dull grinding noise, clanged to a stop.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the voice as the doors opened, depositing the three of them into the vast hall Harry remembered from the last time he had been there, the night Sirius had died. The three of them walked past the fountain that had served as the centerpiece of the violent duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort almost exactly two years earlier. It was completely rebuilt, there wasn't a single clue that such a spectacular fight had once occurred there.

They made their way over to the Security desk, where a bored-looking man Harry had never seen before eyed them warily while measuring their wands. Just as they were about to leave to enter the Ministry he called out to them. "One who needs to shower more often, one who has questionable taste in extracurricular activities, and one cursed by genetics. Don't worry, you're not the only three with problems. Why, just a few minutes ago a young woman came through here who "_likes it from behind."_ He smirked at them, obviously getting a kick out of all the interesting badges he had seen over the day.

Hermione looked like she was about to say something but Ron grabbed her by the elbow and led her away. "Just ignore him," he muttered as they walked through a set of large golden gates and into the Ministry itself. Harry smiled slightly at the role reversal, thinking of all the times Hermione had said those same words at school in regards to Malfoy's taunts, but decided to keep that observation to himself.

Thirty minutes later they were sitting in a small conference room they had been directed to by a secretary in the Minister's office. Harry sat quietly, preparing himself to tell everything that happened, including the part he had originally said he would only tell once. Hermione was reading one of her textbooks she had brought with her. Ron was tapping his fingers on the table in irritation.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "We've been here almost half an hour. Let's just leave."

"No," said Harry softly. "We'll wait."

"He's doing this on purpose!" Ron exclaimed. "I told you we should have come late. Made _him_ wait!"

"You're playing right into his hand, Ron. Scrimgeour is trying to show his power over us by making us wait. He's trying to irritate us," Hermione said, having put down her book when Ron started talking.

"Well, he's doing a bloody good job of that," Ron retorted.

"Must you _always_ swear?" Hermione snapped.

"What's it to you?"

"It's rude, not to mention…"

"Stop," said Harry in a flat voice. Ron and Hermione stopped talking. "Stop arguing. Just relax. If Rufus wants to make us wait, then we'll wait. He is the Minister of Magic, after all."

Ron scowled and muttered to himself while Hermione looked at Harry, noticing his use of the Minister's first name. She wondered if he knew how much like Professor Dumbledore he sounded, if he was doing it on purpose or if he didn't even realize he was mimicking his former mentor. Either way, it sounded like exactly the sort of thing Dumbledore would have said in the same situation.

Hermione was pulled out of her musings by the opening of the door. Rufus Scrimgeour limped through the open doorway, his eyes sweeping over Ron and Hermione before settling on Harry. A second later Percy Weasley walked in, ignoring the murderous glare sent his way by his younger brother. And finally, a short, squat man with thinning grey hair and a greasy face walked in. He wore a visitor's badge that read:

_Sturge Sullis  
(polishes his wand twice a day)_

Harry was locked in a staring contest with Scrimgeour, Ron was still shooting glares at his older brother, but Hermione stared at the third man to enter the room. His name sounded familiar to her but she just couldn't quite place it. She watched as he reached into a pocket in his robes and pulled out a quill and some parchment, and suddenly it clicked.

"What's he doing here?" she demanded, pointing to Sullis.

Scrimgeour spoke, ignoring her question. "I don't remember asking to see all three of you," he said in a smooth voice with just a hint of annoyance.

Harry shrugged. "You said you wanted to know everything that happened. Ron and Hermione were there for pretty much all of it, surely you must want them here to help tell the story," he responded.

Scrimgeour gave Harry a long stare before responding. "Yes, of course I do," he said.

"I asked, what is he doing here!" Hermione demanded again.

This time the rest of the people in the room turned to look at her. "The public has a right to know what happened, my dear," Scrimgeour told her.

"He wasn't part of the agreement!" said Hermione.

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow. "_You_ weren't part of the agreement."

"Hermione?" Harry asked.

She turned her gaze away from the Minister to look at Harry. "I recognize his name, Harry. From stories in _The Daily Prophet_. He's one of their reporters."

Harry's eyes instantly narrowed. He turned back to the Minister. "He leaves, now."

"Harry, now just a minute," Scrimgeour said, raising one hand in front of him. "The public has a right to know what happened. Surely you must agree with that. Sturge here is just going to make sure the story gets told correctly."

Harry snorted. "_The Daily Prophet_ hasn't told a story correctly in its entire history," he scoffed. "No, I want him to leave."

"I hardly think that's necessary, Harry. If you just think about it…"

"He leaves, Rufus, or we leave." Harry interrupted.

Percy bristled at Harry's use of the Minister's first name. "Look, Potter," he said. "You are hardly in a position to be making…" He stopped when his boss held up his hand.

"Your story must be told, Harry. What would it take to get you to agree?"

Harry thought about it for a few seconds. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of the entire Wizarding World knowing everything he had been up to over the past two years, but, then again, it was probably preferable to at least some of the rumors that would surely start up. So if that wasn't what he objected to, then what was it? Why was he so adamant that Sturge leave? While trying to answer that question images of various headlines from _The Daily Prophet's_ past two years flashed before his eyes.

He looked up at Scrimgeour. "He has to leave. Another reporter, a reporter _from a different paper,_ can sit in on these meetings instead. I don't ever plan to speak to a reporter from _The Daily Prophet_ again."

"Surely I don't think…" Scrimgeour began.

"You asked what it would take for me to agree. There you have it," Harry said simply.

Scrimgeour and Harry engaged in yet another staring match. Eventually Scrimgeour turned away and looked at Sullis, who was now sweating quite profusely. "I'm sorry, Sturge, but we'll no longer be requiring your services."

Sullis' eyes widened. "What? But… you… you said… you promised!" he blustered.

"Good _day_, Mr. Sullis," Scrimgeour said rather forcefully.

Sullis glared at the Minister for a few seconds before turning and storming towards the door. "You'll regret this one, Scrimgeour!" he shouted. He hurled his quill at the wall and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Scrimgeour sighed and tapped his wand to his throat while muttering a spell. "Report to the conference room," he then said aloud. Only a few seconds later the door opened to admit a man dressed in the flowing black robes of the Minister Protection Service, an elite division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Sir?" he asked, striding over to stand next to the Minister while eyeing the others in the room.

"I need to know if there are any reporters not associated with _The Daily Prophet_ currently in the building," he said.

"Oh," the MPS wizard said. He looked vaguely disappointed there wasn't a crisis requiring him to whip out his wand and battle against the forces of evil. He walked over to the wall, drew his wand, and said "_Ministry Visitus Revealus!"_ A diagram of the ministry complete with all sorts of strange symbols and blinking lights appeared on the wall. The wizard studied it for a few seconds before turning back to the Minister.

"There's a young reporter from _The Wizarding Times_ here. She's interviewing wizards and witches taking their apparition exams for some sort of story on magical travel," he reported.

Scrimgeour turned to Harry. Harry turned to Hermione. "It's a small wizarding newspaper," Hermione said. "They mostly run special interest stories, there isn't much of a market for regular news. _The Daily Prophet_ pretty much has a lock on that."

"What do you think?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I've only ever read a few of their articles, but they seemed all right. I don't really know."

Harry thought for a minute before turning back to Scrimgeour and nodding. "I'll agree to having her be here, but whatever she writes is only allowed to be published in her newspaper. If I see any of this published in _The Daily Prophet_…" he trailed off, not needing to finish his sentence as Scrimgeour nodded in understanding.

"Come along, Weasley," Scrimgeour said with a sigh. "Let's go find this reporter."

- - - - -

Anna Conway looked down at her notes, reading over them to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She looked up at the girl standing in front of her. "Right, I think that's everything. Thanks for taking the time to answer a few questions, and congratulations on passing your exam."

The girl smiled at her. "Thanks," she said before leaving the room. Anna sighed and looked around the empty waiting room. She had about a half hour to kill before the next person was scheduled to take an apparition exam, and she was debating just going home early. She had already interviewed three different people. How much more was there to learn about what people thought of apparition and the apparition exam?

Anna stood up, having decided to leave. She already had plenty to write her story. _A story nobody is ever going to read,_ a small voice in her head told her. She sighed again, determined to ignore the nagging voice that kept telling her she was wasting her time working as a reporter for _The Wizarding Times._ Today certainly hadn't been the first day she had questioned her sanity in turning down a job offer from _The Daily Prophet_ two years ago.

She was lost in thought, already outlining her story in her head, and thus she didn't notice the door open and two men walk in until she walked right into one of them. "Oh, sorry," she muttered, not looking up from her notes. She made to walk around them and continue on her way.

"Anna Conway?" the man she bumped into asked. Anna looked up and nearly dropped her parchment in shock. She nodded, suddenly quite unable to speak.

"Miss Conway, would you please come with me?" Minister Scrimgeour asked.

Anna felt a jolt of fear course through her. Somehow the Minister of Magic knew her name (the fact that she was wearing a badge with her name on it didn't even occur to her), and on top of that, he wanted her to come with him. What in the name of Merlin did she do?

"What…? You… Break a law?" she stammered, still feeling a mixture of shock and fear at her current situation.

Scrimgeour frowned at her for a second before he realized what was wrong. He smiled gently at her. "No, no, Miss Conway, I'm afraid you misunderstood me. You're not in any trouble. I just require the services of a reporter."

At his reassurance Anna felt the fear begin to drain from her body. She nodded dumbly for a few seconds before the shock went away as well. "If I may ask, sir, what do you need a reporter for?" Anna asked, wanting to know just what it was she being asked to do.

Scrimgeour smiled again. "Harry Potter is about to make a statement to myself about his activities leading up to the defeat of You-Know-Who," he said. "We've agreed the public has a right to hear his story, so I asked if any reporters were in the building and I found you."

Anna opened and closed her mouth a few times. A small part of her brain registered that she probably looked like a fish, but the rest of her brain ignored that. It was too busy trying to process what it had just learned. _Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. Willingly speaking to the press. To ME!_

"Miss Conway?" Scrimgeour prompted. "Harry and his friends are waiting. Will you be able to help me?"

_Harry AND HIS FRIENDS? I get to do a story on the Gryffindor Trio? Doesn't this man understand what this means? EVERYBODY wants to get an interview with the three of them! NOBODY is able to!_

"Of course!" Anna exclaimed, sounding a bit more excited than she meant to. She cleared her throat. "Err, I mean, I'd be happy to help," she said, embarrassed at her outburst. Suddenly she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Sir? You do know I'm not with _The Daily Prophet,_ right?" she asked, remembering how often people assumed she was when they heard she was a reporter. It was shocking how few people in the Wizarding World even knew they had more than one newspaper available to them.

Scrimgeour just nodded. "Of course. In fact, you're perfect for the job. Mr. Potter specifically requested somebody _not_ with _The Daily Prophet,_" he said. "Come along now, I'll lead the way."

Anna followed the Scrimgeour and Percy out the door, a giddy smile on her face.

- - - - -

For the second time that day Harry watched as Rufus Scrimgeour walked into the conference room, quickly followed by Percy Weasley. But instead of seeing a short, squat man with thinning grey hair and a greasy face bring up the rear, he instead saw a young woman with shoulder-length, chestnut colored hair. She couldn't have been more than a few years older than Harry, and he noticed she had a certain understated, girl-next-door manner to her that made him feel at ease around her.

"Anna Conway, meet Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger," Scrimgeour said.

Harry's eyes flickered to the visitor's badge she wore on the front of her robes.

_Anna Conway  
(likes it from behind)_

He watched as her eyes moved between the three of them, looking at their badges as well. Her gaze lingered on Harry's for a second longer than the other two and then the corners of her mouth twitched into a slight smile.

"And I thought I had the worst one," she said. Harry blushed while Ron snickered.

Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, well, let's get started," he said, trying to change the subject.

"Excellent idea," agreed Scrimgeour as he sat down at the table. Percy and Anna did the same. "The purpose of this meeting is for Harry to tell us all of the events leading up to the defeat of You-Know-Who so that we might be better prepared for these situations in the future. Miss Conway, you are here so that everyone gets a chance to hear Harry's story. They all deserve to know since our entire world was affected by this war."

_You forgot to add that you're annoyed I didn't tell you everything I was doing along the way and pledge my full support to the Ministry to help your career,_ _so now you want to find out the whole story so you can twist it around to make it look like you were the hero, _Harry added bitterly to himself

While Scrimgeour was talking Anna had pulled out a stack of parchment and a quill from a pocket in her robes. She also pulled out her wand and pointed it at the parchment, muttering something inaudible. Immediately the quill began to furiously scribble down words on the parchment.

"What did you just do?" Hermione demanded, her eyes narrowed.

Anna looked up in surprise. "What?"

"What did you just do to that quill. Was that a Quick-Quotes spell?"

Anna shook her head. "No, no, I never use that." She looked slightly offended. "It's just a simple recording charm. Here, see for yourself." She tapped her wand against the quill, which immediately stopped writing and fell to the table, and picked up the parchment and held it out to Hermione.

Hermione looked at the words written down.

_R.S.: …situations in the future. Miss Conway, you are here so that everyone gets a chance to hear Harry's story. They all deserve to know since our entire world was affected by this war._

_H.G.: What did you just do?_

_A.C.: What?_

_H.G.: What did you just do to that quill. Was that a Quick-Quotes spell?_

_A.C.: No, no, I never use that. It's just a simple recording charm. Here, see for yourself._

She nodded and handed the parchment back to Anna. "Sorry, I just wanted to make sure," she said.

Anna took the parchment, again cast the recording charm, and then smiled at Hermione. "I understand," she said. "Quick-Quotes can be downright nasty."

"You can say that again," Harry muttered to himself.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat. "Well, if everyone is ready, I suggest we begin. Harry, where would you like to start?"

Harry had already given this a great deal of thought, and he knew where the story leading up to Voldemort's defeat began. Well, in reality, it began with his birth. But he knew where the story that he needed to tell today began.

"At the end of my fifth year," Harry began speaking. "Voldemort planted images in my mind that made me think Sirius…" he stopped speaking as an annoying, high-pitched whine filled the room. Harry drew his wand without even thinking about it.

The whine grew in both pitch and volume until the room was filled with an ear-piercing screech. The quill Anna had charmed to record their conversation lifted off the table and hovered in mid-air, and Harry realized the sound was actually coming from the quill. He pointed his wand at Anna but found her staring at her quill in shock. Obviously she hadn't planned this.

As the shriek continued to grow in volume, it began to shake. It started as a slight rattle, but as the sound reached a point where it moved from annoying to painful, the shaking grew in intensity. Soon the quill was shaking so hard all they could see was a blur. Just as the shriek started to become unbearable the quill erupted into a brilliant orange ball of flame. A few seconds later the charred remains fell to the table, leaving the room in a deathly silence.

Ron was the first to speak. "What the bloody hell…?"

Anna looked down at her parchment for a second and then looked up in realization. "Oh," she said. "I think I know what happened." She held up the parchment for the others to see and pointed to the bottom.

_H.P.: At the end of my fifth year, Vol…_

"I don't think it was able to copy down You-Know-Who's name," Anna said.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Hermione exclaimed. "Do you have another quill?"

Anna nodded.

"Give it to me." Hermione snapped.

Anna reached into her pocket, pulled out a quill, and handed it to Hermione, who pointed her wand at it and muttered the recording charm. She handed it back to Anna, who set it down and watched as the quill leapt up and hovered over the parchment, poised to begin copying down everything that was said.

"Voldemort," Hermione said, slowly and clearly. Scrimgeour, Percy, and Anna all winced at the name, but the quill simply wrote:

_H.G.: Voldemort._

Hermione nodded. "Just as I thought, the spell transfers the caster's fear of Voldemort's name onto the quill. Just like you aren't able to say the name," she told Anna, "your quill wasn't able to write the name."

"This is ridiculous," Harry said. "It's just a name. A name of a person that isn't even alive anymore. Voldemort is dead." The three of them winced yet again. "He can't hurt you!" When nobody said anything for a few seconds he just sighed, dropping the matter for now.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Voldemort planted images in my mind…"

Nearly two hours later Harry's stopped talking. He had told them everything, beginning with the fight in the Department of Mysteries, continuing with learning what the prophecy said, learning about the Horcruxes during his sixth year, traveling with Dumbledore to find the Horcrux, watching Snape murder Dumbledore, searching for and destroying all of the Horcruxes over the past year, and ending with the final battle with Voldemort. He didn't leave out any details, including how Voldemort was finally killed. Hermione and Ron chimed in here and there with things Harry had forgotten or hadn't known, but for the most part, he spoke uninterrupted.

When he was finished the room fell silent, even the scratching of the quill had stopped. Scrimgeour was the first to speak.

"Let me make sure I understood you correctly. You used the killing curse to kill You-Know-Who?"

"Yes."

A pause.

"And you cast it with his wand?" Scrimgeour asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"How did you get his wand?"

"I don't know."

"How did you get knock out all of the Death Eaters?"

"I don't know."

"Why did You-Know-Who only stun you?"

"I don't know."

Scrimgeour growled in frustration. He believed Harry, he didn't appear to be lying. But there were still so many unanswered questions, and spending most of his life as an Auror hunting down dark wizards, Scrimgeour hated unanswered questions.

"Well, I guess that's all," he said. "Harry, we'll have to take you into custody."

"What!" Ron exclaimed.

Scrimgeour turned to look at Ron. "Your friend has admitted to using the most unforgivable of the three unforgivable curses. It's use carries an immediate life sentence in Azkaban."

Ron stood up menacingly, but Hermione spoke first. "You can't be serious! He used it to rid the world of Voldemort!"

"He used it, that is all that matters. I'm sorry, it is the law." Scrimgeour said. Unlike the previous Minister of Magic, Scrimgeour didn't seem to find any joy in the idea of arresting Harry. But he didn't seem particularly averse to it either. In his mind the law had been broken, and the only thing to do was arrest the person responsible.

Ron drew his wand. "You're not arresting him," he said flatly.

Harry stood up and looked at Ron. "It's ok," he said softly. "Don't make a scene."

While Harry and Ron stared at each other, Ron incredulous Harry was so calm and Harry desperately hoping his friends didn't get into trouble over him, Scrimgeour raised his wand to his throat to summon an Auror.

"Wait!" a voice, which had remained quiet for the entire two hours Harry spent telling his story, called out.

They all turned to stare at Percy.

"Yes?" Scrimgeour asked.

Percy looked distinctly uncomfortable for a few seconds and then, without a word, stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it, stuck his wand out into the hallway, and called out "_Accio Wizengamot Decrees!"_

For a few seconds there was silence as they all stared at Percy, wondering just what he was up to. And then they heard a muffled cry from the hallway.

"Look out! Duck!"

A second later Percy staggered, as if something heavy had just hit his arm. He pulled his hand back into the room and the others saw he was now holding an immensely thick book. He carried it over to the table, staggering under its weight, and dropped it down in front of them all with a resounding _thud_.

Harry looked at the title. _A Complete Listing of all Wizengamot Decrees, Self-Updating Version._ Hermione gasped when she realized what it was. She had wanted a copy of this very book for years now, it was just much too expensive for her.

"This is a listing of all decrees ever made by the Wizengamot," Percy told them. "It automatically updates itself each time a new decree is passed."

"Yes, yes, get on with it," Scrimgeour said impatiently.

"I check it every few weeks to stay current on wizarding law," Percy said, swelling up slightly in self-importance at his last sentence. "One of the decrees passed last year pertains to our current situation." He opened the book and flipped to near the back, turning pages silently for a few seconds.

"Ah, here we go," he said. "Wizengamot Decree 498232107: A wizard or witch who uses the Killing Curse in an act of self defense shall be pardoned from the sentence of imprisonment for life in Azkaban Prison. Both the Wizengamot and the Minister of Magic shall have the authority to determine if the use of the Killing Curse was in fact an act of self-defense, but if each body is asked to rule and each rules in opposition to the other, the sentence shall be upheld. Decree introduced by Albus Dumbledore, passed by unanimous vote of all Wizengamot members present after two hours and nine minutes of deliberation."

"498232107…" Hermione muttered. Harry could almost see the numbers flashing in her mind as she worked it out. "Professor Dumbledore must have introduced that only a few days before he died!"

Harry didn't say anything, he was thinking about what he had learned from his conversation with Madam Pomfrey earlier that week.

"Well, then, I suppose there's no way the Wizengamot would rule against you," Scrimgeour said. "You are officially pardoned."

Harry nodded, barely paying attention to what was being said around him. He was trying to understand what it all meant. Why did Dumbledore introduce that decree only a few days before he died? Was it simply a coincidence? Did it have anything to do with his own use of the Killing Curse against Grindelwald?

"Thank you for taking the time to tell your story, Harry. Unless there's anything else, I believe we're done here."

Harry nodded again and followed Hermione and Ron towards the door. He was about to leave when he heard Scrimgeour speak again.

"Miss Conway, would you stay behind for a few minutes? I'd like to look over your transcript of our conversation."

Harry froze. He slowly turned back around and fixed Scrimgeour with a cold stare before he turned to look at Anna. "I expect to see the truth printed in your newspaper," he informed her with a menacing look in his eyes.

Anna met his gaze, unfazed by the look he was giving her. "That's all I ever print," she said.

Satisfied, Harry shot one last glare at Scrimgeour before turning and following Ron and Hermione out of the room.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Sorry about taking a month to update. My life is pretty busy these days, and while I do plan to eventually finish this story, I might not be able to update as quickly as you (and I) might like. I also hope this is the longest chapter I write for awhile. They keep getting longer and longer so far, but I'm going to try and cut them back down in length. 11,000 words is a lot for one chapter, at least in my opinion. I thought about breaking this up into two chapters, but there just wasn't a good place to do it.

I promise, this will be the last time I make you think Harry is about to be arrested for using the Killing Curse.

Yeah, I know. "_Ministry Visitus Revealus_" sounds really stupid. Sorry about that.

Regarding Harry and his statement about "If I see any of this published in _The Daily Prophet…_" followed by Scrimgeour nodding in understanding, that wasn't just a random line thrown in there. Scrimgeour wouldn't ordinarily care if Harry was annoyed with him because of what was published in a newspaper. There's a bit more to that than meets the eye. It's nothing huge, but it's a small part of my story, and you'll understand in good time.

Anna Conway will disappear from the story for awhile, but you haven't seen the last of her!

Finally, I recommend checking out "Harry Potter and the Eternal Right" by MattD12027. It's shaping up to be a very interesting story!

Please review!


	5. For the Fallen

_Thank you, **MattD12027, **for beta-reading this chapter. Your comments and changes have made this a better story._

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World  
Chapter 5 – For the Fallen**

_EXCLUSIVE!  
HARRY POTTER SPEAKS ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO'S FINAL MINUTES!_

_By Anna Conway, Wizarding Times Correspondent_

_(Ministry of Magic, London) In a meeting with Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour and Chief Aide to the Minister Percy Weasley, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger (for biographies of the three, see GRYFFINDOR TRIO, page 3) reported on the events surrounding the final battle with Lord You-Know-Who. Their story began two years ago with the night You-Know-Who was seen in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic by no less than former Minister Cornelius Fudge (for a full account of the events of that night, see MINISTRY OF MAGIC, page 2), continued through the sixth year of schooling for the three (see TOM RIDDLE, page 3) and their quest over the last year to find and destroy objects known to contain pieces of You-Know-Who's soul (see HORCRUXES, page 4), and ended with the defeat of You-Know-Who._

_The three friends were enjoying a quiet dinner at a restaurant in Muggle London when they were transported via hidden Portkeys to the Dark Lord's lair. They found themselves surrounded by more than 50 Death Eaters, not to mention You-Know-Who himself. And to make matters even worse, they quickly discovered Ginevra Weasley, younger sister to Ronald Weasley and love interest for Harry Potter (see GINNY WEASLEY, page 3) had also been captured._

_You-Know-Who put the two Weasleys and Hermione Granger under the Cruciatus curse in order to rattle Harry. He then engaged in a brief duel with Potter before having his Death Eaters disarm him. Wandless and surrounded by dozens of You-Know-Who's supporters, Harry could do nothing but watch as the Dark Lord trained his wand on the young Weasley girl and taunted Potter with the knowledge that he was about to kill her. Overcome by rage and grief, Harry performed an unfathomable feat of magic and somehow knocked out all of the Death Eaters while also summoning You-Know-Who's wand to himself. It remains unclear how he was able to accomplish this, and Harry was unable to provide any insight into his actions._

_This did not deter You-Know-Who, however, as he wandlessly cast a Killing Curse at Harry. Ginevra Weasley jumped into its path, despite being bound by magical ropes, and took the curse meant for Harry. She did not die immediately and is currently in St. Mungo's, but her prognosis is not good (see GINNY WEASLEY, page 3, for more on this story). Watching the girl he loved crumple to the ground, Harry engaged You-Know-Who in a duel using the Dark Lord's own wand, and was eventually able to defeat You-Know-Who, a feat none, not even the late Albus Dumbledore, universally proclaimed to be the greatest wizard of the age, could accomplish._

_Harry Potter has spent most of the last two weeks recovering from injuries sustained during the duel and asks that the public give him and his friends time to rest and recover from their dangerous and tragic ordeal. How he accomplished all the things he did may never be understood, but it is quite certain history will never forget what he did for everyone alive when he freed us all from You-Know-Who's reign of terror._

- - - - -

Harry put down the newspaper and looked up at Ron and Hermione. The three of them were, once again, spending their day studying in Ginny's hospital room. Even though it was a Saturday Hermione had insisted they spend several hours studying to make up for their trip to the Ministry yesterday.

"It's not bad," he grudgingly admitted. As much as he hated being in the newspapers, he had to admit this article really wasn't that bad. The reporter, Anna Conway, had written an unbiased, factual article. Except for the time Skeeter wrote the article for _The Quibbler_ in his fifth year, he couldn't remember ever being featured in an article that had only reported the truth.

"It does leave out a few things, though," he added. "Like me using _Avada Kedavra_."

"Do you really want the whole world knowing about that?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not really, but I don't think I care that much, either. If everyone wants to make me out to be some sort of hero, they should know what I did."

"I think Scrimgeour prevented her from including it," Hermione said. "There isn't a single mention of it or the Wizengamot decree in any of the articles. He probably wants to avoid people finding out there may be times when they're allowed to use the Killing Curse."

"I still don't understand what made Dumbledore introduce that decree," Ron said.

"Me either," Hermione agreed.

"I don't understand how Scrimgeour didn't know about it," Harry said, avoiding the subject of Dumbledore. He still wasn't ready to talk about what he had learned. "I thought the Minister of Magic is a member of the Wizengamot."

"Oh, he is," said Hermione. "But it's usually just a formality. Fudge was the first Minister in over a hundred years to actually invoke his right to sit in on their meetings and deliberations. Scrimgeour didn't know about it because he's probably never sat in on any of them."

"He really was a power-hungry man, wasn't he?" Harry thought aloud. He spent a few seconds wondering what had happened to Fudge, because he had pretty much disappeared from the public spotlight not long after Dumbledore had died. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he flipped through the rest of the paper. "Almost the whole bloody paper is full of articles about us and our fight against Voldemort," Harry muttered.

"It's all pretty standard stuff," Hermione said, having read the paper cover to cover the moment it had arrived that morning. "The article about our search for the Horcruxes is pretty vague, it doesn't really explain what they are, but that's probably a good thing."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "We don't need anybody getting any bright ideas about how to become immortal."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Overall, I think Anna Conway did a really nice job. She stuck to the facts and wrote several good articles. I heard it's already paying off for her; when I went to the cafeteria earlier I heard people saying that _The Wizarding Times_ sold out its first printing in record time. They're doing an extended second printing."

"Well, if somebody has to profit from all this, at least it's not _The Daily Prophet,_" Harry growled, not happy with the thought of people making money off his story.

"Turn to page six, Harry," Hermione said softly.

Harry flipped through the pages and stopped on page six. He found a rather large article taking up the entire page and, intrigued by the headline, he started reading.

- - - - -

_Harry Potter: The Man Behind the Fame  
An Editorial by Anna Conway_

_Who is Harry Potter? He's the Boy-Who-Lived. He's the boy who was somehow able to stop You-Know-Who at the age of one. He's the youngest to play Quidditch on a Hogwarts House Team in over a century. He stopped You-Know-Who from getting the Philosopher's Stone in his first year. He slew a Basilisk in his second year. He became the youngest participant in the history of the Tri-Wizard Tournament in his fourth year. He spent months telling people You-Know-Who had returned when nobody wanted to believe him in his fifth year. He was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in his sixth year. He chose to fight against You-Know-Who instead of returning to Hogwarts for his seventh year. He saved the Wizarding World from the most terrible Dark Lord we've ever known not even two weeks ago. But who is he?_

_For all the facts that all of us, even small children, can list about the life of Harry Potter, who is he, really? We all know a list of facts, but do we know the person behind the facts? What were his favorite classes at school? Who was his favorite professor? What does he like to eat? What is his favorite Quidditch team? What does he like to do in his spare time? How does he deal with the endless bother of reporters asking for interviews? What does he think of his fame? Does he even enjoy being famous?_

_Except for those few that are close to him, not one of us could answer more than one or two of those questions, and most of us probably couldn't even answer one. We all think we know Harry Potter. We see him as this image of a perfect young man with strong convictions and a desire to always help others. And while that image is probably more correct than Harry would ever admit, none of us think about the toll Harry's hard life has had on him._

_Harry, along with his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, recently sat down with the Minister of Magic to tell their story about how they defeated You-Know-Who. It was not a story full of action, adventure, and glory, but one full of heartbreak and tragedy._

_Two years ago Harry inadvertently led his friends into a trap set by You-Know-Who. While coming to their rescue his godfather, Sirius Black, was killed in a duel with known Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry had a faraway look to his eyes as he talked about his late godfather, and while he never came out and said it, it's quite obvious he still feels a great amount of guilt over his death, even though it certainly was not his fault._

_One year later, Harry was forced to watch helplessly as Severus Snape, former Hogwarts Professor of Potions, and later Defense Against the Dark Arts, betrayed and murdered Albus Dumbledore. Harry's voice cracked as he talked about Dumbledore, and while the whole world still feels the loss of the greatest wizard of the age, do any of us truly understand Harry's pain? From Harry's account it seems Dumbledore took him under his wing and helped him come to terms with both his magical power and his role in society. We all looked up to Dumbledore, but Harry seemed to look up to him as his personal mentor. It was obvious to all present in the room that Dumbledore's death left a great hole in Harry's life._

_As if that weren't bad enough, not two weeks ago Harry watched as Ginny Weasley, the girl he loves, stepped into the path of a Killing Curse meant for him. When he came to this part of his story tears appeared in his eyes, and he had to stop for several minutes to compose himself. In these moments he seemed to draw strength from the presence of his two close friends. With no words spoken between them they seemed to hold some sort of silent communication. They truly are the best of friends, and the rest of us in the room could see how lucky they are to have each other._

_Once he had composed himself, Harry talked about Ginny. He talked about how they had spent several years as friends before he noticed her "in that way," to use his words. He had a sad smile on his face as he talked on and on (to the point where Minister Scrimgeour seemed to be getting annoyed) about how beautiful, nice, caring, and free-spirited she was. He told of how they had only spent a few short weeks together before he broke it off out of fear of her being hurt if You-Know-Who learned of their relationship. He talked about how they were going to get back together once the war was over._

_Well, the war is over, and Harry and Ginny are together. We know Harry has been spending all his time over the past week at St. Mungo's. Speculation has been wild about what is wrong with him, with several rumors circulating that Harry was dying. Now we know the truth: Harry spends his days keeping Ginny Weasley company, for You-Know-Who's wandless Killing Curse did not kill her right away. Ginny Weasley is in a coma, slowly slipping away but expected to survive for several months, if not years. Harry sits by her side each day, his two friends keeping him company. So yes, Harry and Ginny are finally together, but not in the way they had always hoped._

_Harry Potter is not the unflappable hero many of us believe him to be. He is a young man with strong convictions and a desire to help others, but he is also a human being, just like you and me. The pain reflected in his eyes and projected in his voice was almost enough to move this reporter to tears. Harry has made it clear on several occasions that he does not wish to be bothered by the press. Let us do as he asks and give him time to grieve. He has earned it._

_And so we return to the original question. Who is Harry Potter? He is a young man full of courage, strength, and love who has known more pain and more suffering as a result of this war than most of us could ever imagine. He has ended one of the most terrible and brutal wars in the history of the Wizarding World. For most of us, the nightmare ended two weeks ago when word came that You-Know-Who had been defeated. But for Harry Potter, our savior, our hero, the nightmare continues. We can only hope he is able to, someday, somehow, wake up from his nightmare and enjoy the world he helped to save._

- - - - -

Harry looked up from the newspaper to find himself alone in the room with Ginny. He had been so engrossed in reading the editorial about himself that he didn't even notice Ron and Hermione leave. He got up, crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed. He was grateful to his two friends for leaving, because somehow they always seemed to know what he needed, and right now he needed a few minutes alone.

Harry's thoughts centered on the words he had just read. Never before, not even once in all of his life, had he read an article about himself that so completely captured his true feelings and state of mind. He was somewhat shocked the reporter had picked up so much just from sitting there listening to him tell his story, and even more shocked she hadn't used what she had picked up to write an article detailing his lack of emotional control and likelihood of becoming completely unhinged any day now. If he tried to think of a way to properly describe the article the best he could come up with was that it was just so… _nice_. Based on his experiences with the press to date, it was a completely foreign concept.

He looked down at Ginny. Harry reached down and brushed her hair out of her face. Each time he touched her part of him hoped she would feel his touch and come back to him, but, just like every other time, she only continued to lie there.

Harry brushed his hand through her hair again, and then let his hand rest on her forehead. He stared at her pale but peaceful face, silently pleading with her to open her eyes and wake him up from his nightmare.

Ginny continued to lie there.

- - - - -

Percy Weasley put down his copy of _The Wizarding Times_ and sat back in his chair. It was Saturday, and while he technically had the weekends off he usually worked anyway. It wasn't like he had much else to do. But today he just hadn't felt like going into work.

He had just finished reading the entire newspaper for the third time that morning. If he was honest with himself he didn't know what he was searching for, but he just couldn't stop reading the articles printed about the previous two years of Harry Potter's life.

Percy stood up, picked up his now-empty glass and bowl (which had recently contained his breakfast of Quidditch-O's) and crossed the few steps between his small table and the kitchen sink. He placed his bowl in the sink and pulled out his wand to cast a Cleaning Charm, but stopped just before he cast it. Motivated by a strange urge he didn't understand, he turned on the water and began cleaning his dishes by hand.

He looked out the small window over the sink that looked out onto one of the side streets off of Diagon Alley. He didn't have much of a view; all he could see was the street below and the rather drab-looking building across the street. For the first time he could remember, Percy felt vaguely depressed by his view. His flat wasn't much, just a tiny, one-bedroom place in one of the cheaper areas of Magical London, but in the past he had always looked out this window, the only window in his flat, and felt a sense of pride. It was his, as he paid for it completely by himself, and it was only a short walk from Diagon Alley. From there it was an easy manner to Floo to work.

But today, Percy didn't feel pride. He had been in a strange mood ever since Harry had told his story yesterday at the Ministry. Percy hadn't wanted to go at all because he knew Ron would be there, and these days Percy found it easier to just avoid his family completely rather than try to deal with them. However, Minister Scrimgeour had insisted. He wanted Percy to be there to keep an official record of the meeting. Percy didn't really see why it had to be him, as anybody was capable of casting a simple recording charm on a quill, and that hadn't even ended up being necessary once they brought in a real reporter instead of one that would just use a Quick-Quotes spell. But, then again, he was the Minister's lackey, wasn't he? He always went where the Minister went, so he could see why he was expected to be at the meeting. So in the end he had gone without much of an argument.

He hadn't been expecting to hear such a personal and complex story. Although, when he really thought about it, he wasn't sure what he had been expecting. The past two years, and in particular the last 6 months, had been terrible. So many lives had been lost and so many attacks had been made that Percy had been kept extremely busy just trying help Scrimgeour keep the Ministry running. He never took the time to think about how the war was affecting others, let alone Harry Potter.

But listening to Harry, and occasionally Ron and Hermione, had opened his eyes a little. As difficult a time as he had been through as a result of this war, others had it worse. Much, much worse. And this wasn't even taking into account the whole situation with Ginny, which Percy hadn't at all sorted out in his mind yet. He had never been very close with her, but she was still family, and family was supposed to stick together, weren't they?

That last thought angered Percy. His family certainly hadn't stuck by him. All they had ever done was accuse him of all sorts of nasty things the day he had been promoted. But then again, he certainly hadn't been very nice to them either. And sometimes it seemed like there had actually been some truth in their accusations that he had only been given such an important promotion so that he could spy on his family, and through them, Dumbledore. He had managed to ignore the whole situation ever since You-Know-Who's return had indeed been confirmed and continue to convince himself his family had been wrong, but after listening to Harry tell his story yesterday, it wasn't so easy anymore.

All these thoughts swirled through Percy's head as he stared blankly out the window, the water still running and washing over the long-forgotten dishes. He found himself remembering back to the night You-Know-Who had been sighted by his former boss, the same night on which Harry's story had begun…

- - - - -

_Percy sat in Minister Fudge's office, struggling to stay awake. He had been summoned nearly an hour ago, and as soon as he had arrived he had been directed to wait in Fudge's office along with a few other members of his staff. They had all been waiting there ever since, and seeing as it was the middle of the night and there had been no sign of Fudge since he had arrived, Percy was beginning to get annoyed._

_Just when he was contemplating going off in search of the Minister, the door opened and Fudge walked in. He looked terrible. He had dark blue bags under his eyes and his skin was as pale as a ghost. Without a word Fudge walked over to his desk and poured himself a large shot of something which looked suspiciously like Firewhiskey. Percy noticed his hand shaking as he lifted the glass and downed the liquid in one gulp._

_Fudge sat down at his desk and buried his head in his arms, his elbows propped up on the desk._

"_Minister?" one of Fudge's assistants prompted._

_Fudge looked up in surprise, almost as if he had forgotten they were all there. He stared at them all for a moment with wide eyes. Percy swore he saw something that resembled naked terror flash behind Fudge's eyes, but he blinked and it was gone._

"_He's…" Fudge stammered, then stopped. He drew a deep, shaky breath. "He's back," he said quietly._

_The others in the room looked at each other in confusion. When nobody spoke Percy took it upon himself to take control of the situation._

"_Who's back, sir?"_

_Fudge turned his gaze to Percy and stared at him for several seconds. "You-Know-Who," he whispered, so quietly Percy and the others could barely hear him._

_Immediately the room broke out into pandemonium. Everyone was shouting questions at the Minister, but Fudge made no attempt to answer them or calm everyone down. He simply sat at his desk with a far-away look in his eyes._

_Percy lifted his wand and shot red and gold sparks out the end of it. "Quiet!" he shouted. The room quieted and he turned back to his boss. "Are you sure?" he asked._

_The question seemed to snap Fudge out of the state he had been in ever since entering the room. "Of course I'm sure, boy," he snapped suddenly. "I saw him with my own eyes, right here in the Ministry. He was dueling with Dumbledore… in the Atrium. It appears he and Potter have been telling the truth all year." The last sentence was said with absolutely no venom or bitterness. He simply said it in a matter-of-fact way._

"_I want all of you to get to work immediately," Fudge ordered. "Start calling in everyone, spread the word, but keep it within the Ministry for tonight. We'll hold a press conference tomorrow morning. Somebody set that up, too."_

_Nobody moved._

"_What are you waiting for! MOVE!" Fudge ordered._

_Percy joined the others as everyone started to file out of the room. He was in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings. Everything he had known for the past year had been based on the absolute conviction that the Ministry was right and Dumbledore, Potter, and his family were wrong. He felt like his entire world had been turned upside down. Just as he was about to leave the office Fudge called out to him._

"_Weasley! Stay behind a minute."_

_The use of his real name, instead of Weatherby, pulled Percy out of his daze enough for him to register what Fudge had just said. He couldn't ever remember Fudge actually getting his name right before. He stopped while the others left the office._

"_Close the door and sit down," Fudge said once the others had left._

_Percy did as he was told and sat down in a chair in front of the Minister's desk. Fudge let out a heavy sigh. He poured himself another drink and then looked at Percy. "Drink?" he said, gesturing to the bottle sitting on his desk. Percy shook his head to decline and Fudge simply shrugged before sipping from his glass._

_Fudge regarded him for a moment from behind his desk before speaking. "I wanted to thank you, Percy," he said._

_Percy blinked in surprise. Not only had Fudge gotten his last name right, but he was now even using his first name. "Thank me, sir?" he asked._

_Fudge nodded. "I know about the split between you and the rest of your family," he said. "I know their loyalty to Dumbledore and your loyalty to the Ministry caused a disagreement which eventually led to you cutting off all ties with them. I just wanted to thank you for the loyalty you've shown. I don't know where I would be without you, because you have been a great asset this past year."_

_Percy looked down at his feet, unable to meet the gaze of Fudge. "Thank you, sir," he said, pleased at receiving such praise while also conflicted over his thoughts on his family. "But…" he trailed off, unsure how to express his thoughts._

"_Yes?" Fudge asked._

_Percy remained silent._

"_Go on, Percy, you can say whatever it was you were about to say. I won't be angry with you," Fudge prompted._

_Percy continued to stare at the floor. "It's just that… well, they were right, weren't they? All this time we've been trying to discredit Dumbledore and Potter, and they were right all along? I separated myself from my family because I believed they were helping to spread lies, but all along, they were the ones telling the truth!" Percy looked up to meet Fudge's gaze as he finished speaking._

_Fudge sighed, and took another sip of his drink. "Yes, Percy, it looks like they were telling the truth about You-Know-Who," he admitted, looking exhausted. "But," he added, his features hardening, "it's not quite that simple."_

"_Sir?"_

"_Dumbledore leads a secret organization called 'The Order of the Phoenix,'" Fudge said. "I'm not sure he's aware I know of its existence, but I am. It supposedly exists to fight against You-Know-Who, but it operates outside the law. Instead of trying to work with the Ministry and benefit from our combined resources, Dumbledore tries to work around us. He expected full cooperation from me and yet he never extended the same courtesy to me._

"_And, unfortunately, that is not all. A rather large duel took place tonight in the Department of Mysteries."_

_Percy gasped at the thought of anyone gaining access to the top-secret Department._

"_I don't yet have all the details, but somehow Potter and several of his friends were able to gain access to the Department of Mysteries because they believed You-Know-Who to be there. He wasn't, but several of his Death Eaters were, and a duel broke out. It involved a prophecy as well; a prophecy concerning both Potter and You-Know-Who and made to Dumbledore. It is rumored to contain vital information on how You-Know-Who can be defeated._

"_Anyway, the duel downstairs somehow moved upstairs to the Atrium, at which point You-Know-Who and Dumbledore engaged in a duel. I witnessed the tail end of it myself, as a matter of fact. After it was over and You-Know-Who fled, Dumbledore refused to share any of his knowledge regarding the prophecy with me, yet he made several statements expressing his desire for me to begin fully cooperating with him._

"_Percy, I don't know what Dumbledore and his followers are playing at, but they clearly aren't telling us the whole truth. There is far more going on here than we know about, and I don't like the feel of any of it."_

_Percy sat quietly for a few seconds before speaking. "Why are you telling me all of this?" he asked. "I mean, not that I don't appreciate it, because I do. But why tell me?"_

"_Because whatever Dumbledore is up to, your family is involved. We believe your parents and older brothers to be important members of his Order."_

_Percy absorbed this new information, feeling a little of the anger he usually felt towards his family creeping back in. They might have been telling the truth about You-Know-Who, but it sounded like they had still chosen the wrong side, the side that continued to keep secrets and hide its true agenda._

"_What are you asking of me?" Percy asked. "Are you asking me to go back to them, so that I can monitor them and find out what they're up to?"_

_Fudge smiled. "No, Percy. That is not something I would ask of you. I just thought you should know the full truth of the situation, given how heavily involved your family is."_

_Percy sat and thought for several seconds before nodding and standing up. "Thank you, sir, for being so candid with me. I really should get to work now. It's going to get very busy around here."_

_Fudge nodded. "Of course, my boy, of course. And you're welcome. If you need anything, anything at all, you come find me." He smiled at Percy._

_Percy acknowledged the offer with a half-wave and left Fudge's office._

- - - - -

Percy turned off the water that was still flowing into the sink, and looked back out the window. With the knowledge he had gained from listening to Harry speak yesterday, things seemed much clearer now. As soon as Fudge had realized Percy might want to try to make things right with his family, he had stepped in and said just enough for Percy to think better of it. Fudge knew how much of a stickler he was for the rules, and all it took was a few comments about his family being wrapped up in some mysterious Order that operated outside of the law while also being involved in some mysterious plot to withhold crucial information from the Ministry.

He thought about the last question he had asked Fudge. It was less than a week later that Fudge began to come under intense pressure to resign, but with clarity of hindsight, Percy had no doubt Fudge would have eventually asked him to go back and spy on his family had he remained in office. He would have let enough time pass so Percy never made the connection that it had been Fudge's goal all along, but he would have done it. Of that Percy was certain. He had spent enough time around the Minister to know how manipulative he could be when the need arose. Why Percy hadn't seen it when those manipulations had been directed at himself he just couldn't understand. And to think, he had actually admired Fudge's "political prowess," which is what he had thought of it as at the time!

Percy turned around and let his eyes roam over his small, utilitarian apartment. Before that night in the Ministry his life seemed to have a purpose. After that night, despite a nagging feeling somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he was still able to come up with reasons to get up and go about his business each morning. But now, after finally learning the complete story, he was no longer convinced his lonely life meant something. He had lost his family. He had even managed to lose Penelope. For the first time in more than two years he found himself unable to answer whether or not it had all been worth it.

- - - - -

Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent the next several days continuing the same routine they had developed the week before. They spent their days at St. Mungo's, keeping Ginny company while studying for their NEWTS, and their evenings at their flat in Muggle London. Depending on their individual schedules, the rest of the Weasley family would also stop in at St. Mungo's to visit Ginny, and Bill and Charlie (and sometimes Fleur) stayed with her at night so that she was never alone. It was the Wednesday the week after meeting with Scrimgeour that an unexpected owl arrived.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were quietly studying at the table in Ginny's room, and Mrs. Weasley sat next to her bed, knitting. Ron reached down into his bag and felt around with his hand. After a few seconds he frowned and looked down and picked up his bag. His head disappeared inside it as he rooted around for a few more seconds before putting it back down with a sigh.

"I left my seventh year Transfigurations textbook at home," he said. "Can I borrow one of yours?"

Harry started to reach down to his own bag when Mrs. Weasley spoke up.

"Home," she said. "That reminds me, when are you three going to finally tell us where you've been living? I should have asked before now, but with everything else…" she trailed off, feeling guilty for going more than a week without asking them where they were living. She knew she had been caught up in her own grief over Ginny's condition, but that was no excuse to stop being a good mother.

"Oh," said Ron. "The three of us got a flat in Muggle London. We figured it would be one of the easiest places to hide."

"Muggle London," Mrs. Weasley repeated softly. "How did you manage that? You don't know the first thing about Muggles!"

"Harry does," Ron countered, "And Hermione certainly does. It's not so bad, really. We don't usually go out into the city that much, and when we do, one of them is always with me. It's actually been kind of fun. I think I'm starting to understand ekeltricity! And Muggles have this thing called a telly…"

Ron broke off and looked at his mum for a minute. "What?" he asked. He had noticed the look on her face that meant she had something she wanted to say. Something he wouldn't like.

"I think it was a good idea to live there last year, because nobody would have thought to look for you there. But when are you moving home?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ron just looked at her. "I'm not," he said, bracing himself for the explosion.

It never came. Instead, Mrs. Weasley let out a great sigh and looked down at Ginny. The room was silent for nearly a minute before she spoke again, still looking down at her daughter. "I had a feeling you would say that," she said softly. "But I had to ask."

Ron glanced at his friends. Hermione was biting her lip and looking like she was using every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from adding her opinion to the conversation. Harry was looking down at his book, pretending to be engrossed in his studies but really just trying to stay out of any potential arguments. Without a word Ron got up and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to his mother.

"Mum, you have to understand, it's not that I don't like the Burrow. In a way it'll always be home. But I need my own space," Ron said. "And besides, I rather like living with my friends," he added, casting a quick smile at Harry and Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley didn't respond right away, so Ron continued speaking.

"Mum? I really want this to be all right with you."

"You're all gone," she said. "You've all moved on…"

"Isn't Charlie living at home?" Ron asked, his face twisted in confusion.

Mrs. Weasley looked up at her son. "Oh, yes, for now. But he'll leave eventually. I can see it in his eyes. He's staying around for now because we all need to be together, but it will only be a matter of time before he goes off back to Romania—or somewhere else. He never was one to stay in one place…"

Ron looked over at his friends, silently pleading with them to help him out. He was used to dealing with a mother who exploded, screamed for a short while, and then got over whatever it was that was bothering her. He had no idea how to deal with the way his mother was currently acting.

Hermione noticed the look. "Mrs. Weasley, your children haven't forgotten you, and I seriously doubt they ever will. Bill moved back to England after spending several years in Egypt, the Twins surely must stop by at least once a week just for the sake of general annoyance, and Ron will visit you each time he's feeling hungry," she said. "And knowing Ron," Hermione added with a smile, "that will be at least four times a day."

Mrs. Weasley looked up at Hermione. "I know, dear, don't mind me. I'm just…" she trailed off, not exactly sure what she was.

"My parents are coming to dinner Friday night to see our flat," Hermione said. "Why don't you and Mr. Weasley come also?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be," Hermione protested. "And besides, I'm sure Mr. Weasley would just love to get his hands on all of the Muggle devices we have there."

Mrs. Weasley smiled faintly. "Yes, I'm sure he would. If you're sure…" she trailed off, looking at Hermione.

"We're sure, Mum," Ron answered for Hermione.

"Well, then we'll be there," Mrs. Weasley said. "I just hope Arthur doesn't try to take apart-"

She never got a chance to finish her sentence, for at that moment a brown barn owl swooped in through the open window carrying several letters. It landed on the table next to Harry and held out its leg expectantly. Harry looked at it for a second before untying three envelopes from its leg. He looked at them and saw one addressed to him, one to Hermione, and one to Ron in tidy, compact handwriting. He handed Hermione her letter, tossed Ron's to him from across the room, and opened his own.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_As you may be aware, the 1012th Annual Hogwarts Commencement Ceremony will be taking place this Saturday. On behalf of the entire staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I extend to you a formal invitation to attend the ceremony. Please inform me if you plan to attend via a return owl at your earliest convenience so that an accurate count of attendees may be determined._

_Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_p.s. Harry, I know that you and I have had our difficulties over the past year, but I ask you to please attend commencement this weekend. There are a few things that need to be taken care of, and I also wish to speak to you regarding a certain matter._

Harry looked up from his letter. "I've been invited to attend Hogwarts' commencement this weekend," he said.

"Me too," Ron said.

"So have I!" Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, this is perfect! I was so disappointed that we wouldn't be able to go since we didn't finish school this year. It's a private ceremony; if you're not related to somebody graduating or personally invited by a professor you can't go. This is wonderful!"

"But why would McGonagall invite us?" Harry asked. "And she said in my letter there were a few things that needed to be taken care of, and also that she wanted to speak with me regarding a certain matter, although she doesn't say what that is."

Ron frowned. "I don't know, she didn't say that in mine," he said. He looked back down at his letter again. "She did tell me my family was also invited, though."

Hermione nodded. "Mine too." She looked at Harry. "You don't have any idea why she would want to speak with you?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head. "No."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to find out on Saturday," said Mrs. Weasley, who had remained silent up until that point.

Harry looked at her, and then at Hermione. He could tell from one look at her face how excited she was about this. He turned and looked at Ron, who was still sitting on the bed next to his Mum. Ron looked back at him and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess we will," Harry answered. He noticed the owl that had delivered their letters was now perched on the windowsill, casting an imperious gaze over the room. "It looks like an immediate response is expected," he said with a gesture towards the owl. He took a blank piece of parchment from a stack Hermione had brought with her and scribbled a short note saying all three of them, along with their families, would attend. _Well, at least those who have families,_ his mind silently added.

Just as he finished writing the letter the owl flew over to the table in a flutter of wings. "Aren't you a smart bird," he said softly as he tied the letter to the owl's leg. With a quiet hoot of agreement the owl took off and soared out the window, beginning its journey back to Hogwarts.

- - - - -

Harry stared at the three large rings in the distance, trying to ignore the stares he kept catching from the people sitting around him. Like Ron and the entire Weasley family (except for Percy and Ginny), and Hermione and her parents, and a few hundred other witches and wizards, Harry was sitting in a chair on the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, watching the commencement ceremony take place.

Harry had known the ceremony was going to be boring, but he had no idea just how long it was going to be. McGonagall had kicked it off with a few introductory remarks. Following that, the Head Girl and Head Boy, both Ravenclaw students Harry only vaguely recognized, each delivered rather long-winded speeches. Scrimgeour had then given a commencement address lasting nearly an hour, and yet in all that time he hadn't really said anything beyond mindless political catchphrases. And then a series of awards had been given out. Harry had felt terrible when he saw the disappointed look on Hermione's face as McGonagall announced another Ravenclaw Harry didn't recognize as the member of their class to graduate with the highest grades. He was sure Hermione would have gotten that award if she had stayed. And now they were announcing each name and handing out rolls of parchment that Harry surmised contained a Hogwarts degree.

Giving up on the Quidditch goal hoop as a source of entertainment, Harry looked around the crowd. He caught more than a few people staring at him only to look away quickly when they noticed he had spotted them. He cursed under his breath, but apparently it was loud enough for Hermione to hear him. She elbowed him and cast him a disapproving glare before turning her attention back to McGonagall, who had apparently just reached the letter L. Harry spent the next minute silently wondering if he could just hide from the public for the rest of his life.

"Neville Longbottom."

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to the stage. Neville, looking slightly taller and a bit older than Harry remembered, walked across the stage. He took the parchment from McGonagall and shook her hand. He then moved down the line, shaking hands with several Hogwarts professors, as well as Minister Scrimgeour. Reaching the end of the line he turned and looked out over the crowd for a moment before leaving the stage. In that moment, Harry noticed a look on Neville's face he had never seen before. He looked confident.

For the next half hour Harry zoned in and out of reality, tuning in to watch when somebody he knew walked across the stage but otherwise just sitting and thinking about absolutely nothing. Finally, after Blaise Zabini walked across the stage to receive his degree, the long ceremony had ended.

Or at least Harry had hoped so. But after the applause for the recent graduates had died down, McGonagall once again approached the podium. Harry looked down at his program and frowned when he realized they still had the "Special Awards" section of the program to get through. _More bloody awards? Didn't they already give out awards?_ He thought bitterly to himself.

"Congratulations once again to our newest graduates," McGonagall said as she began speaking. "Each and every one of you has learned enough to be successful in this world, and I wish you all the best." She stopped and smiled as another round of applause broke out, and when it died down she continued speaking in a more somber tone.

"This last year has not been an easy one," she began. A chill suddenly settled over the large crowd despite the warm sun shining down on them all. "Albus Dumbledore ran this school for more than a generation, and it wasn't until he was gone that I fully realized how much all of us had come to depend on his eternal optimism and wisdom in the face of all the great uncertainties of life. He was our headmaster, our professor, and…" she stopped as her voice cracked, and then finished her sentence a second later. "And he was my friend."

Harry was now paying attention to each word being spoken. He hadn't been expecting anything about Dumbledore, and it had caught him off guard. He had never really dealt with the pain over his mentor's death; he had simply pushed it aside in order to complete what he and Dumbledore had started. He supposed he should have been expecting something, considering this was the first commencement ceremony to be held since that night on the Astronomy Tower, but he just hadn't thought about it.

"I've thought long and hard about the best way to honor him," McGonagall continued. "Albus didn't care about awards—he had received so many in his lifetime that he hung them all on the wall next to his loo. He told me once that he put them there because anyone who was given that many awards needed to find some way to retain a humble perspective, and that nothing was more humbling than the sounds one's body makes in that room." There was a faint red blush on her cheeks as she said this, but it had the desired effect as the crowd laughed. It was exactly what Dumbledore would have wanted.

"What you all just did—your laughter—that is the best way we can honor his memory. Albus had an uncanny ability to see the humor in any situation, and he taught us all how important a laugh and a kind smile can be. But there is one other thing we can all do. Albus had a soft spot in his heart for the school song, and he loved hearing all of his students singing it each fall to start off the New Year. He didn't call for it in the last few years of his life because he didn't feel it was appropriate with the darkening times, but let us all stand and sing it." McGonagall pointed her wand to the air in front of her, and a second later golden words appeared in the air.

"Here are the words. There is an official tune for them, but Albus always preferred to let each student pick their own tune and sing it at their own pace. So let us all do that one last time. For Albus."

The crowd burst out in song, each one of them singing to a different tune and at a different speed. Harry stood among the crowd and took it all in, not actually singing himself. Listening to the chaos that resulted from so many voices each singing something different and thinking about Professor Dumbledore, Harry felt a small grin form on his face despite the sadness he felt. It was perfect.

The noise died down as people began to finish their rendition, and finally there were just two voices left. The small grin on Harry's face blossomed into a full smile as he turned to look at the only two people still singing. Sitting a few chairs away from him, Fred and George Weasley were just finishing the final lines in an overly cheerful, loud, show-tune style of singing. As they reached the final line they each stood up on their chairs, lifted their arms, looked skyward, and belted out each word as if their life depended on it.

Finally they finished and sat down, ignoring the glares their mother was shooting them. The rest of the Weasleys were shaking their heads at the antics of the Twins, Hermione was glaring at them in a similar manner to Mrs. Weasley, and Harry was just smiling broadly. He caught their eyes and nodded at them before turning back to McGonagall.

He saw her casually a wipe a tear from her eye before speaking once again. "Thank you, that was wonderful. I'm sure Albus would have loved that. Especially the ending," she added with a quick glance in the general directions of Fred and George.

"There is one more matter to be addressed before this ceremony comes to a close," she continued. Harry resisted the urge to groan. Despite the fact that he had enjoyed the tribute to Dumbledore he still wanted to leave. The stares from those around him weren't really dying down any.

"Will Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger please come up onto the stage?" McGonagall asked.

Harry froze. He stared at McGonagall, desperately hoping he had heard her wrong. This was the absolute last thing he wanted. His mind was searching for ways to suddenly disappear when Hermione nudged his shoulder. She and Ron were already standing.

"Come on, Harry," she said.

He frowned at them. "Did you know about this?" he demanded.

Ron shook his head and leaned in close. "No," he whispered. "But come on, get up. Everybody's staring at us."

Harry looked around and realized Ron was right. He had been annoyed with the occasional person staring at him before, but now practically the entire crowd was looking in their direction, with many of them twisting around in their seats to get a better view.

Harry sighed and stood up. He realized there wasn't going to be an easy way out of this, so he decided to just go with Ron and Hermione and see what McGonagall was up to. The quicker he got up there the quicker he could leave and get away from everybody.

He followed Ron and Hermione as they worked their way up through the rows of chairs. They reached the stage and climbed up the three steps set off to one side. They walked across the stage and stood a few feet away from McGonagall. Hermione and Ron both had questioning looks on their faces while Harry was simply trying to prevent a scowl from taking over his own face. McGonagall just smiled faintly at them before turning back to the crowd.

"I have a few more awards to hand out," she said. Harry felt a sudden urge to pull out his wand and Disapparate, and probably would have done so if Hermione hadn't discretely placed her hand on his arm. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he remembered he wouldn't have been able to if he tried due to all the wards protecting Hogwarts.

"A few of you may have noticed that one of our annual awards was not handed out earlier. Unlike all of the other awards, which are selected by the staff, this is an award voted on by the students." McGonagall reached down and pulled a small black box out from under the podium. "Each year the students select the member of that year's graduating class who they believe to be the best Quidditch player. This year's recipient of the Quidditch Excellence Award is Harry Potter."

Harry stared dumbly at McGonagall, ignoring the roar of applause coming from the crowd. She motioned for him to come stand beside her and he did without even really thinking. She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "You deserve this, Mr. Potter. And before you go thinking this is only because of your recent defeat of You-Know-Who, you should know that the voting was conducted last December. Even though you weren't here this year, your peers felt you deserved this award. Please accept it."

Harry wasn't sure what to think. He didn't really want the award, and he didn't even think it was fair considering he hadn't stayed for his last year of school. But he just nodded weakly and accepted the award. McGonagall seemed to notice his state of mind because she didn't ask him to say anything to the crowd, she simply handed him the box and let him take a step back to stand beside his friends.

When the applause died down she continued speaking. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione left school this year to continue something Harry and Professor Dumbledore started last year, as you all know from the articles published earlier this week. They gave up the last year of their schooling in order to work towards ending the war, and because of that none of them were able to earn degrees like the rest of their classmates. After conferring with the Hogwarts Board of Governors, we have decided to do something about that.

"Hermione Granger, please come forward." Hermione stepped forward, looking confused. McGonagall reached down and pulled out a rolled up parchment. "Miss Granger, I present you with an honorary Hogwarts degree. Not just for your recent actions, but for your unwavering loyalty and service to this school. You are one of the best students this school has ever seen, and this is the least we can do to repay you for your service. Congratulations, Miss Granger." She smiled as she held out the degree to her favorite student. Hermione took it, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

A few people began to applaud, but McGonagall held up her hand and continued speaking. "Ronald Weasley, please come forward." Ron did as he was told as McGonagall produced another rolled up parchment. "Mr. Weasley, I present you with an honorary Hogwarts degree. You showed this school the true meaning of words such as loyalty and friendship. You played the best game of chess we have ever seen and you faced your greatest fear, all before your third year even began," she said, referring to the giant chess game in his first year and Aragog in his second. "Congratulations, Mr. Weasley." She handed him the parchment and took a step back, leaving the two of them standing at the podium.

Ron looked at Hermione. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected any of this, and he didn't trust his mind enough to try to say anything. He'd probably just end up blubbering something unintelligible and make himself look like a giant prat. He motioned for Hermione to go ahead and say something since it seemed to be expected. Even though she was obviously trying desperately hard to keep from crying he had no doubt she would be able to handle the whole public speaking thing much better than he would.

Hermione stepped forward and looked out over the crowd. She was embarrassed but also very pleased at the praise McGonagall had given her, but she couldn't help feeling like they didn't quite deserve the degrees they were now holding. They hadn't really finished the work to earn them after all.

"We're going to earn these," she said, holding up the parchment clutched in her hand. "Ron, Harry, and I are all going to study and take our NEWTS next year. We're going to earn these," she insisted. She swore to herself that she would see that her words came true.

"You already have!" somebody in the crowd shouted out.

Hermione blushed. She thought about protesting but decided not to, nodding instead. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Professor McGonagall began to applaud behind her, and soon the crowd joined in. Hermione backed away from the podium and stood next to Ron, still embarrassed by all the attention. From the redness of Ron's face she could tell he was just as embarrassed. Without really thinking about it she took his hand in her own, and the two of them stood there and tried to fight down their blushes as the crowd applauded for both of them. She thought she made out the very faint sound of a wolf whistle coming from the general direction of where the Twins were sitting but she just ignored it and enjoyed the moment.

After a minute McGonagall stepped forward. The applause quickly settled down and she began to speak again. "Harry Potter, please come forward." Harry had been expecting this even though he was hoping she would just forget about him. He walked forward as Ron and Hermione took a step back.

"Mr. Potter, I present you with an honorary Hogwarts degree. It was also my original intention to present you with an Award for Special Services to the School, but after discussing the matter with the Board of Governors I've decided something else will be more appropriate." Harry didn't like the sound of that but said nothing.

"In your first year you became the youngest student in over a century to play on a Hogwarts Quidditch team. You, along with Mr. Weasley, fought a giant troll in order to save Ms. Granger's life. You took it upon yourself to protect the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who, pressing onward even when your friends could not. If not for you, the stone would have most likely fallen into his hands.

"In your second year you saved the school from being forced to close by finding the Chamber of Secrets and killing the giant basilisk that was responsible for petrifying several of our students. In the process you also saved Ginny Weasley's life.

"In your third year you learned how to conjure a Patronus, one of the most difficult charms in existence. You used that knowledge to fight off several dozen Dementors, and in the process you, along with Ms. Granger, saved an innocent man from the terrible fate of being kissed by a Dementor.

"In your fourth year you succeeded in a tournament no student your age should have been able to succeed in. You out-flew a dragon, you jeopardized your chance to win the tournament in order to save those you believed to be in danger, and you navigated a difficult maze. You then were forced to watch as You-Know-Who was reborn. You dueled against him and managed to escape with not only your life, but also the body of a fallen schoolmate.

"In your fifth year, you endured great ridicule by the general public but never wavered from your stance that You-Know-Who had returned. You led a secret Defense Association when it became obvious your instructor was incapable of preparing you for your exams, and your instruction resulted in some of the highest OWL scores in Defense Against the Dark Arts that Hogwarts has ever seen.

"That same year, you also saved Arthur Weasley's life through your quick actions. You attempted to save your Godfather when you thought he was in danger, and when it became apparent that you led your friends into a trap, your skills with a wand allowed them all to come home safely.

"In your sixth year you served your house and your school by accepting the position of Quidditch Captain. You also saved Ron Weasley from a poison with your quick actions. You worked with Professor Dumbledore to learn more about You-Know-Who's past and eventually discovered the truth behind his near-immortality. You accompanied him, despite great risk to yourself, on a mission designed to combat this.

"In what should have been your seventh year, you instead continued the work begun by yourself and Professor Dumbledore. You took the burden on yourself to finish what the two of you had started, sacrificing your final year of schooling and whatever little remained of your childhood in the process. And two weeks ago, you rid the world of You-Know-Who once and for all."

Harry was staring at his feet. He didn't trust himself to look anywhere else, and concentrating on his shoelaces was the only thing that seemed to be keeping him from blurting out what he really wanted to say.

"In the face of all that," McGonagall continued, "an Award for Special Services to the School just doesn't seem to be enough." She reached down and pulled two things out from under the podium. One of them was a rolled-up parchment, no doubt his honorary degree. The other was a small wooden plaque.

"So instead we have created a new award. This award will be given out each year to the graduating student who the staff feels gave the most of himself or herself to both Hogwarts and the Wizarding World in general."

McGonagall turned away from the crowd and looked Harry in the eye. "Mr. Potter, I am pleased to announce that you are the first recipient of the Harry James Potter Award for Service to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Congratulations, Harry."

The crowd remained deathly silent. A small part of Harry's mind registered this as odd since he didn't realize just how well known his dislike for the public spotlight was. They were all waiting to see how he reacted to this. But he ignored the small part of himself that noticed this because the rest of him was now openly scowling at McGonagall.

_She doesn't understand… I don't deserve this! Every bloody thing she just mentioned, I either had help or was lucky in all of them! WHY can't people understand that!_

He was strongly tempted to just walk off the stage when an image of Ginny came into his mind. Here he was, being praised and given all sorts of awards while she continued to lie silently in a bed at St. Mungo's. But instead of angering him further the mental image actually soothed him. He knew exactly how to handle these awards now.

He stepped forward and took the parchment and the plaque from McGonagall's hands, returning her smile with a slight nod. He set them down on the podium and stared out over the crowd. They were all looking at him expectantly, wondering what he was going to say. It wasn't everyday most of them got to hear Harry Potter speak, after all.

"I will accept these awards, but not for myself," Harry said. "Ginny Weasley is lying in a hospital bed at this very moment, and the Healers don't seem very optimistic that she will ever wake up. Professor Dumbledore rests for all of eternity in a tomb not very far from here, because he was killed by one of his most trusted colleagues. Nymphadora Tonks, an Auror and member of Professor Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, was killed last fall while defending Hogsmeade from a Death Eater attack. Sirius Black spent twelve years in prison for a crime he did not commit, and then spent nearly three years hiding after he escaped. A Death Eater killed him before he could truly enjoy his freedom. Cedric Diggory died because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"And these are only a few people. So many people died in this war, not to mention the countless Muggles that most of us never even think about. I will accept this award for each and every one of them, for those who had to die so that all of us could live. They are the real heroes in all of this, not me. Honor them. Don't honor me."

The silence was overwhelming, broken only be a few quiet sniffles from those for whom Harry's words had hit a little too close to home. Suddenly a voice shouted out from the back.

"For the fallen!"

Harry nodded. "For the fallen," he repeated, his voice magically amplified since he was still standing at the podium.

A few people began to applaud. It started out quiet, but quickly grew in volume, as it spread through the crowd likes waves through water. Soon the Quidditch Pitch was shaking with the roar of the crowd. People began to stand up, and once it started that spread as well. Within a minute every person in attendance was on his or her feet.

Harry looked out over the crowd. He was too overcome with emotion to even put together a coherent thought. He began to applaud as well, joining in with the deafening roar of the crowd.

"For the fallen," he whispered.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Another chapter complete. This chapter turned out very differently from what I imagined when I first started thinking about it, but I think I'm happy with the way it came out. There was supposed to be a conversation between Harry and McGonagall that directly relates to the only _real_ plot my story will have (as opposed to just a general exploration of how they all move on from the war), but ending it where I did seemed to work out for the best. The conversation will show up in the next chapter.

I've made pretty extensive use of flashbacks so far in my story. There will be another one in the next chapter, but after that they won't be quite so common. I've been using them primarily to fill in some of the gaps between the end of book six and the beginning of this story that are important for future events in the story, but as the focus of the story begins to shift away from filling in the past and actually getting on with life, they will be less common.

Also on that note, time will begin to pass much more rapidly. This story spans several years, and, with a few exceptions, not much happens in the next year. My general trend will be to focus in on one month, week, day, or even hour for several chapters at a time, and then fast-forward over the time in between where nothing important happens. So don't be surprised if a few months suddenly pass by in a few sentences!

I thank each one of you who has left a review. Feedback, even negative feedback, is the greatest gift you can give to a writer.

Please review!


	6. The Loss of Remus and Tonks

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World  
Chapter 6 – The Loss of Remus and Tonks**

"That was a nice speech."

Harry turned around and saw Professor McGonagall walking up behind him. She stopped a few steps away from him and regarded him for a second or two before looking over his shoulder at the people gathered around him.

"If you will excuse us," she said to them, "I require a few moments of Mr. Potter's time."

Harry let out a sigh of relief at those words. Ever since the Commencement had ended nearly a half hour ago he had been mobbed with a constant stream of people who wanted to talk to him, thank him, praise him, shake his hand, offer their sympathies, and so on. Ron and Hermione hadn't done anything to help him. In fact, he had caught them both casting rather amused looks in his direction.

Harry gave a smile of apology to the small group of people all clamoring for his attention and closed the gap to stand next to McGonagall.

"Thank you," he breathed quietly.

She smiled faintly. "A little attention might have been good for you, but everyone has their limits. And you seemed to be nearing yours."

Harry wanted to argue with her about whether or not the attention he had received in the past half hour had been good for him, but decided to just let the matter drop. She had just rescued him, after all.

"I meant what I just said, that really was a nice speech," she said.

Harry shrugged. "To be honest with you, I almost refused the awards. I really wasn't very happy with you for doing that to me, but just as I was thinking about walking off the stage I thought about…" he stopped. "Well, I thought of something I could say that might stop everybody from treating me like…like…" he trailed off, looking for the right words.

"Like what, Mr. Potter?"

"I don't know. Like I'm a bloody god or something."

McGonagall frowned at his language but didn't call him out on it. Instead, she looked at him for a few seconds. "You just defeated…"

"Yes, I know," Harry interrupted impatiently. The last thing he wanted was yet _another_ person telling him how wonderful he was for ridding the world of Voldemort. Whenever somebody told him that the same two thoughts came to him – Ginny was dying and Harry had used the Killing Curse. He wasn't ready to face either of them.

McGonagall frowned again, this time at being interrupted. For a split second she looked as though she was going to reprimand him, but then her features softened. "Take a walk with me," she said. She turned and set off in the general direction of the lake, leaving Harry no choice but to follow her.

Harry quickly caught up with her and the two walked towards the lake, leaving the slowly dispersing crowd behind them. Soon they had walked far enough so that the sounds of the crowd had all but died away, but McGonagall remained silent. Harry stole a quick glance at her, curious as to what she wanted, and found her staring straight ahead with a neutral expression on her face. He decided to stay quiet and let her decide when to start talking.

They reached the shores of the lake and McGonagall stopped. Harry stopped beside her. They both stared out over the calm, glassy surface of the lake, broken only by a few ripples as the Giant Squid surfaced to sun itself. It was peaceful here. Standing there watching the Giant Squid float lazily on its back Harry realized just how much he had missed Hogwarts over the last year. Even just the little things like relaxing by the lake on a warm, sunny afternoon. Especially just the little things.

"I need to apologize to you."

Harry jumped. He had actually forgotten that Professor McGonagall was standing right next to him. He knew right away what she was talking about.

"No, you don't," he said softly.

McGonagall turned to look at him. "Yes, Harry, I do. Albus trusted you, I knew that. It should have been enough for me."

Harry continued to gaze out over the lake as he slowly shook his head. He tried to find the words to make her realize that she had nothing to apologize for but she pressed on.

"I had no right to treat you the way I did…" she started to say.

"YOU HAD EVERY RIGHT!" Harry roared in a burst of sudden anger. He tore his gaze from the lake and turned to face McGonagall in time to see the look of shock pass through her eyes before she steeled her face back into its usual emotionless state.

Harry blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? Just as soon as the anger had come it had gone. He shook it off and continued, in a much softer voice. "You and Professor Dumbledore were close. How close, I have no idea, and it's none of my business either. He told me things that he didn't tell you, and then he died before you could talk about any of this with him. You were angry at him but he wasn't there for you to be angry at. I was."

McGonagall stared at the young man in front of her. He had said pretty much everything she had come to realize since reading the articles in _The Wizarding Times_ earlier that week. She had no idea he was so perceptive, and when she told him that he just laughed.

"I'm not. Hermione told me all that months ago," he admitted.

McGonagall smiled faintly at the thought of her favorite student, although she would never admit to a soul that she actually had a favorite student. But the smile quickly disappeared when Harry turned back with a quiet sigh to again stare out over the lake.

"That's no excuse for the way I treated you," she said, a bit distraught at how distant Harry seemed. "I truly am sorry."

Harry turned his head to look her in the eye. "I know," he said with a sad smile before turning back to the lake.

It was then that McGonagall knew she truly was forgiven. Harry wasn't being distant towards her, he was just being distant in general. And she had a pretty good idea why. With those thoughts McGonagall shifted to the other reason she wanted to speak to Harry.

"That's not the only reason I wanted to talk to you," she told him.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, let's keep walking," McGonagall said. "It's such a nice day." For the second time that day she set off before he could argue, leaving him no choice but to follow. They walked slowly around the lake while McGonagall gathered her thoughts. Harry had a right to know everything she knew.

"When I saw you two weeks ago," she began, "you asked me how You-Know-Who was able to abduct Ms. Weasley from Hogwarts." She now had Harry's full attention. "I told you that I didn't know, that we had no idea at all how that happened. I told you the truth, how he got her out of the castle remains a mystery, but I didn't tell you everything we know. I think I at least owe you that much."

Harry motioned for her to continue.

"On the night in question, Ms. Weasley failed to show up for dinner. Her friends didn't think anything of it at the time, apparently she had told them earlier that afternoon she was going down to speak to Professor Slughorn about her upcoming exam in Potions. When she didn't come to dinner they just assumed she had decided to go to the library to study after talking to him.

"After dinner, two of her friends went to the library to bring her some food. They couldn't find her in the library so they spent about a half hour searching the school before going to Professor Slughorn. He told them she had not come to see him at all that day. They came to my office and were in the process of explaining to me that she was missing when word came in that You-Know-Who was dead.

"Once the Hogwarts staff learned Ms. Weasley had somehow been abducted from the school, we conducted a thorough investigation. Several students reported seeing her going into the dungeons about two hours before dinner, heading in the general direction of the Potions classroom. Nobody saw her after that, and there is no evidence that any of the extensive wards protecting the castle were breached."

There was a moment of silence as the two of them continued to slowly walk around the lake. "I know it's not much," McGonagall added, "but I thought you deserved to know everything I know."

Harry nodded, whether in agreement or acknowledgement McGonagall couldn't say. "She was last seen in the dungeons?" he asked.

"That's right," McGonagall confirmed.

"So it was one of the Slytherins then," he growled.

McGonagall sighed. "It's possible. All I can say for certainty is that no student in Hogwarts carries the Dark Mark – of that I am quite certain – and that no other students were missing. I don't know who was responsible for her abduction, but, perhaps even more worrisome, I don't know how she was abducted. Like I said, no wards were breached. The castle was locked down, all doorways, windows, and secret passageways were equipped with monitoring spells. I would have known if anybody had exited or entered through one of them, and nobody did."

"So we'll never know, then," Harry said. He sounded defeated, as if he had already accepted that whoever had been responsible would escape without punishment.

"We won't give up. Not yet, at least," McGonagall argued.

Harry shot her a look.

McGonagall sighed again. "No, I doubt we'll ever know for certain what happened," she admitted. She stopped walking and stared out over the lake. They had walked almost all the way to the other side. She could still see the remnants of the crowd on the Quidditch Pitch, but at this distance they moved about silently. Shifting her gaze a bit she watched as a bird flew down out of the sky and landed on the tip of a white tomb. She watched the bird for several minutes before she realized Harry had also gone silent beside her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and found him regarding the same white tomb.

"It's times like these I wish Albus was still here," she admitted. "No one knew the castle as well as he did. If anyone could figure out what happened it would have been him."

"Can't you ask his portrait?" Harry asked, thinking of the portrait of a sleeping Dumbledore he had seen the two times he had been in the former Headmaster's office since his death.

"He hasn't woken up yet," McGonagall answered.

Harry looked at her in confusion. "You can't wake him up?" he asked.

"How much do you know about portraits?" McGonagall answered with a question of her own as she turned to look at Harry.

"Err… not much, I guess," Harry said. "I never really gave them much thought. I'm not even really sure how they're made."

"When a portrait is first made the subject is always asleep," McGonagall explained. "Some wake up almost instantly, some wake up a few days afterwards, some wake up after a few weeks or months, and some either take years to wake up or don't wake up at all. Each portrait to ever wake says that they somehow knew they were needed, but they have no idea how they knew that or what caused them to wake up. Nobody has ever been able to wake up a portrait before it was ready, and nobody understands why some wake up while others do not."

Harry frowned. "I don't understand. Can't the people who make the portraits explain it?"

McGonagall shook her head. "Portraits make use of extremely complex magic that just isn't well understood. A portrait is more than simply a copy of the memories and personalities of somebody, it contains a part of the person's magical essence. Even the company that makes portraits doesn't understand it very well."

"I don't understand. How can they make portraits if they don't even understand the process? And what is a magical essence? If somebody leaves behind their essence to make a portrait, then are they not really dead? I mean, if part of them is still here, does that prevent them from going on to whatever comes after we die? Like what happens when someone becomes a ghost?" Harry asked, completely confused but also somewhat intrigued.

McGonagall smiled to herself as she listened to Harry. It was the most animated she had seen him all day. In fact, he reminded her a little of Hermione with his whirlwind of questions. Seven years in her company must have rubbed off on him a bit.

"No," she said, addressing his questions, "they are truly dead. A witch or wizard who wishes to leave behind a portrait has part of their essence extracted before they die. It's similar to if you were to have blood extracted, it doesn't mean you are any less of a person than you were before. And in the same way that leaving a vial of your blood behind after you die wouldn't stop you from going on, neither would leaving behind part of your essence.

"Now, as for what a magical essence is – that is a question nobody has an answer for. The process of creating a portrait was discovered quite by accident by a Healer a few thousand years ago. She was trying to develop an easier method of drawing blood from a body, and ended up creating a spell that withdrew a cloudy, formless substance instead. She had no idea what it was and so she experimented with it for several decades. After nearly half a century of running every experiment she could dream up, she mixed it with a bit of parchment on a whim. To her great surprise, a portrait of herself appeared.

"That is why those who make portraits can do so without fully understanding the process. They simply copy what that Healer did when she accidentally invented the process. So they have no way of explaining why some portraits wake up while others do not, and, unfortunately, the portraits don't seem to be able to explain it either beyond saying they somehow knew they had to wake up."

Harry listened as McGonagall explained. When she finished there was one thing that he didn't understand. "Professor Dumbledore was needed," he said softly.

McGonagall turned away from Harry and looked back at the distant white tomb glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. "This past year no one was needed more than Albus. Just hearing his voice speak a few words of wisdom would have done such wonders for us all. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to understand why he hasn't woken up…" her voice died off.

Harry heard the hurt in her voice and didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Eventually McGonagall shook her head and gave him a faint smile. "I've taken up enough of your time, let's get you back to your friends," she said as she set started walking again.

Harry followed her and they walked in a companionable silence most of the way around the lake. It wasn't until they were almost all of the way back and Harry saw Ron and Hermione begin to walk towards him that he broke their silence.

"Professor…" he began.

"Minerva," she corrected him. "I'm no longer your professor. I haven't been for a year now."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure I could get used to that. But I'll try," he added when he saw she was about to protest.

She nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"I wanted to thank you," said Harry. "For being honest with me. About everything, I mean. Ginny, Professor Dumbledore, and, well… everything." Harry wasn't accustomed to authority figures actually being completely open with him, and he had gotten the feeling from McGonagall during their walk that being open was exactly what she had been doing. He was genuinely grateful for it.

McGonagall nodded. "It was the least I could do after the way I've acted this past year."

Harry waved his hand in dismissal. "I don't blame you for that, please don't blame yourself."

McGonagall nodded again. She held out her hand to him, which he grasped warmly and shook. "Come visit an old professor every once in awhile, won't you?" she asked.

"You can count on it," said Hermione, as she and Ron had now reached the two of them. "With us studying for our NEWTS this year I'm sure we'll have questions that we'll need to contact you about."

"Yeah, I imagine you'll be sick of us before long," Ron added.

McGonagall struggled to control the emotions that were threatening to bubble over the cool demeanor she maintained for others. Even if she would never admit it to anyone else, the three young adults standing in front of her had been three of her favorite students of all time. The only others that came close were a certain three pranksters and one red-haired witch.

"I doubt it," she managed to say in response to Ron's comment. After letting go of Harry's hand she shook hands with Ron as well, but when she held out her hand to Hermione the young woman instead enveloped her in a sudden hug. That was just enough to push her over the edge and she felt a few tears prickling at the edges of her eyes.

"Thank you for everything, Professor," Hermione said when she drew back. "I've learned so much from you." She reached up and wiped away a tear, a gesture mirrored by McGonagall.

"Sorry," McGonagall said, "my allergies always get to me this time of year."

"Mine too," Hermione agreed as both woman ignored the looks of disbelief Ron and Harry were sending their way.

A sudden commotion caused them all to look towards the Quidditch Pitch, where they saw Hagrid engaged in a heated discussion with Rufus Scrimgeour.

McGonagall sighed. "Oh, not that again. The two of them don't exactly agree on whether Grawp should be allowed to move out of the Forbidden Forest. If you'll excuse me…" she started to hurry off, but stopped after a few steps and turned to look at the three of them. "You three take care of each other. You have a strong friendship, don't ever let anything come in the way of that." And with that she turned and strode off in the general direction of the shouting match between an irate Minister of Magic and an even more irate Half-Giant.

They watched her walk away for a few seconds and then Ron turned to Hermione. "Allergies?" he asked with a grin.

Hermione ignored him and turned to Harry instead. "Harry, Ron and I are going to meet a bunch of old DA members at The Three Broomsticks. Do you want to come?"

Harry nodded. "Sure," he said. Part of him wanted to hurry back to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible to be with Ginny, but another part of him was dreading going back there. It was just so depressing sitting in a hospital room watching her lay in bed all day. So even though he felt a bit guilty about not rushing back, he really did want to go with Ron and Hermione. It would be nice to see all of his old classmates as well.

The three friends set off down the path to Hogsmeade. At first they made small talk, but after a lull in the conversation Hermione asked Harry a question.

"What did Professor McGonagall want?" she asked softly. Harry didn't answer right away. "Oh, I'm sorry, you don't have to tell…"

"No, it's ok," Harry interrupted. He suddenly decided he wanted to tell them what McGonagall had said to him. When he got to the part about Ginny last being seen in the dungeons Ron got a dark look on his face.

"It was one of the Slytherins," he growled.

"It could have been anyone, Ron," Harry sighed. "McGonagall doesn't seem very hopeful we'll ever know what happened."

Ron thought about that for a minute. "If I ever find out who was responsible, I'll kill them," he said.

"Not if I do first," Harry replied softly.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Neither one was joking and with nothing more than a look they each knew the other meant it. They took solace in knowing the other would do what they had to if the opportunity ever arose.

Hermione looked back and forth between her two friends, who seemed to be having a conversation without words. She sighed. "Nobody is going to be killing anybody," she said. Ron opened his mouth to argue but thought better when he saw the fierce look on her face. Instead, Harry continued narrating the conversation he had shared with McGonagall.

"I always wondered how portraits worked," Ron said when he had finished.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who had remained silent the whole time he was talking about portraits. "I'm actually kind of surprised you haven't said anything," he said to her. "I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to talk about something nobody understands very well."

Hermione looked down at her feet. "Remember the whole thing with the Time Turner?" she asked.

Harry frowned at the sudden shift in the conversation. He looked at Ron who shrugged. "You mean rescuing Sirius?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, no… I… remember how overwhelmed I got?"

"Yeah…" Harry said, completely confused as to where this was going.

"Well, all the classes weren't really the problem. A few weeks into the term I learned about portraits and about how nobody understands much about how they're made or what magical essence is. I decided I was going to figure it out, so I worked non-stop on it. I used the Time Turner to give myself more time but I never actually used it to sleep. Harry? Ron?" Hermione turned around and saw that both of them had stopped several paces back up the path. They were both gaping at her.

"Let me get this straight," Ron said once he managed to close his mouth. "You – a 14 year old witch who didn't even know magic existed three years earlier – decided to answer a question that nobody, not even some of the greatest minds in the history of the Wizarding World, had been able to answer for the last several thousand years?"

"Something like that," Hermione said in a tiny voice.

"That's our Hermione," Ron said with a smile.

Hermione bristled. "I am not _your_ anything!" she exclaimed.

Ron held up his hands in defeat. "Ok, ok, sorry. I just meant… oh, never mind. You really are amazing, Hermione. Come on, we're almost there." He started walking down the path again, leaving Hermione to decide what exactly he meant by that comment.

Harry followed Ron, and when he walked by Hermione he leaned in close to her. "It was a compliment," he whispered as he walked by. Hermione just stared at their backs for a few seconds before shaking her head and following after them.

As they entered Hogsmeade Harry began to walk slower and slower. His face took on a tight appearance, almost as if he was trying as hard as possible to prevent any emotion from showing. Both his friends noticed but didn't say anything, unsure what had caused the sudden change. As they neared the Three Broomsticks Harry suddenly stopped. He stared at a spot on the ground a few steps away from the entrance to the pub.

"Harry?" Hermione asked softly. He didn't answer. "Harry?" she said again, a bit more forcefully.

Harry snapped his head up. "What? Oh, sorry. Let's go in."

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He looked back down at the ground. "That's where…" he trailed off.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other in confusion. "What is it, mate?" Ron asked.

"Tonks…" Harry said softly. "This is the first time I've been here since it happened."

A look of comprehension came over both their faces. This must have been the spot where Tonks was killed. They knew it happened in Hogsmeade and that Harry had been there when it happened, but they had never really heard the details. Harry hadn't wanted to talk about it and they never pressed him on it. Hermione was considering asking Harry if he wanted to talk about it when he started talking on his own.

"It was two days before Christmas," he said in a faraway voice. "Remus asked me to stop by Grimmauld Place before I went to the Burrow for Christmas. He said he had something he wanted to ask me…"

- - - - -

"_Ooomph!" Harry fell out of the fireplace and onto the cold stone floor of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He rubbed his knee and dragged himself up into a sitting position, glaring at the fireplace. "Bloody Floo… it shouldn't be so damn hard," he muttered to himself. Suddenly he was startled by the sound of a quiet chuckle, and he looked up to see Remus Lupin sitting at the table in the basement kitchen, watching him with amusement dancing in his eyes._

"_That's right, laugh it up," Harry said as he stood up, gingerly testing weight on his knee. It seemed to hold, so he walked over to where Remus was sitting._

"_I'm sorry, Harry, but it is rather funny, you know." Remus said, not actually sounding the least bit sorry._

"_What? My pain is funny to you?" Harry snapped._

"_No, not that," Remus shook his head. "It's just funny to think what people would say if they knew how bad you were at Floo travel. You're Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the…"_

"_I think you've made your point," Harry said as he sat down and sulked in a chair across from Remus._

"_Not quite." There was something bordering on glee lighting up Remus' eyes that made Harry instantly suspicious._

"_What do you mean?" he asked._

"_Well, as I was saying before I was _interrupted_," Remus intoned, "you're Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the youngest Tri-Wizard Champion in history, and…" he paused for dramatic effect. He pulled a magazine out from under a stack of parchment on the table and plopped it down in front of Harry. "… this year's _Witch Weekly's_ Hottest Wizard!"_

_Harry stared at the cover of the magazine in horror. There was a picture of him in his Gryffindor Quidditch gear soaring through the air on his Firebolt. His hair was windblown and his face was a mask of concentration as he reached for something just off the page – presumably the Snitch. The text on the cover proclaimed "HARRY POTTER: HOTTEST WIZARD! READ ALL ABOUT THIS BOY WONDER INSIDE!"_

"_Boy Wonder?" Harry asked softly to nobody in particular. He groaned and banged his head down onto the table._

"_Imagine what all those readers would say if they knew their Hottest Wizard couldn't even properly Floo," Remus said with unabashed glee._

_Without raising his head from the table Harry made a very rude gesture. He then grabbed the magazine and flung it in the general direction of the fire._

"_You missed," Remus said._

_Harry responded with a second rude gesture._

"_That's not very nice, young man," Remus said. "What would all the readers…"_

"_Stuff it, Remus," Harry said as he raised his head to glare at the older man._

_Remus raised his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok," he said with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, but I had to have at least a little bit of fun with that. If nothing else it was my duty as the last of the Marauders."_

_Harry muttered something under his breath about old men who thought they were funny, and then got a good laugh at watching Remus sputter at being called old. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You can dish it out but you can't take it?" he taunted._

_Remus gave him a stern glare for a few seconds before breaking and smiling. "How about we declare a truce? I'm already in the middle of a prank war with the Weasley Twins; I need to focus all of my attention on that."_

"_A prank war with the Twins?" Harry asked. "How did that start? I haven't heard anything about it!"_

"_Well, no, you wouldn't," said Remus with a mischievous grin. "It all started when the Twins paid off the printing company releasing the updated version of Hogwarts: A History to say that they were the greatest pranksters of all time when, in reality, the book was going to give that title to the Marauders. I found out about it a few weeks ago, and let's just say the Marauders have been making them regret their actions. It's a rather one-sided prank war at the moment as they have no idea that 'The Marauders' is actually me. I'm thinking about leaving some clues for them to follow, actually, since it's only so much fun pranking them into oblivion with no threat of retaliation."_

_Harry smiled at the thought of the Twins getting beat at their own game, as well as the thought of Remus getting himself involved in a prank war. There was a light in his eye when he described the prank war that was rarely present in the werewolf's eyes, and Harry realized it probably meant that he had finally managed to come to terms with being the last of the Marauders. It was the only way he would ever start pranking again. Harry was happy for him. Remus, more than just about everyone else, deserved a little happiness in his life._

"_So you're still living here at Headquarters?" Harry asked._

_Remus nodded. "It's hard sometimes, but somebody needs to be here to keep the place running."_

"_So the Order is still active, then?" With his focus on the search for the Horcruxes over the past several months he had been paying very little attention to what everyone else had been up to._

_Remus nodded again. "It's not the same with Dumbledore gone, but we do our best." Remus fixed Harry with a piercing glare. "We might be able to do more if we knew what you considered so important you decided to leave school to do," he said._

_Harry met Remus' stare with one of his own. "I can't," he said, his eyes pleading yet firm._

_After a few seconds of tense silence Remus sighed and smiled sadly. "I know, Harry. I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't even tell the Order about whatever it was the two of you were up to when he died, secrecy must be very important. It's just…" he trailed off._

"_Frustrating?" Harry asked._

_Remus nodded silently._

"_I know," said Harry. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. If I could tell you I would, you have to understand that. I just can't."_

"_I do understand, Harry," said Remus. "Just promise to ask for help if you ever need it."_

_It was Harry's turn to nod. The two lapsed into silence for a moment before Harry remembered why he had come in the first place. "Your owl said you needed to ask me something. What was it?" he asked._

_Suddenly Remus' face broke out into a wide grin. "Ah yes," he said. "I…"_

_Whatever Remus was about to say was interrupted by a loud bang as the door burst open and Moody limped in, followed by a few Order members Harry didn't know. Without a word Moody went over to a cabinet and pulled out a box._

_Remus, recognizing the box for what it was, stood up. "What is it?" he asked._

"_Death Eaters in Hogsmeade," Moody said gruffly. "The Aurors have already been called in. I'm looking for the Hogsmeade Portkey so we can help them." He said all this while rooting through the box._

"_The Aurors…" Remus' face went white as he trailed off. Harry frowned at his reaction for a second before realizing that meant Tonks was probably there._

"_Here it is," Moody said as he pulled a white paper cup out of the box. The other Order members gathered around Moody, and when Remus took a step forward Harry stood up. Remus turned back to look at him but Harry spoke first._

"_I'm coming," he said. The two men stared at each other for a split second before Remus nodded. They both walked over and placed their hands with the others on the Portkey._

"_Wands out," Moody said. There was a brief shuffling as they all drew wands. "Everybody ready?" he asked. There was only a grim silence for a reply before Moody spoke the password to activate the Portkey. "Order of the Phoenix."_

_Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel and felt a momentary wave of dizziness._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

_Out of reflex Harry threw himself to the ground a second before hearing an explosion behind him. From his vantage point on the ground he saw an Auror send a curse towards a Death Eater who still had his wand pointing where Harry had just been standing. Harry pulled himself to a sitting position and glanced behind him to find the shattered remains of a lamppost. He struggled to come to terms with how close that curse had come to striking him instead of the lamppost._

"_All right, Harry!" he heard a shout from several feet away. He turned his head and saw Remus looking at him in concern. He nodded, shaking off the lingering shock._

"_I'm fine," he called out as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked around and felt his mouth open in shock as he got the first good look at his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of Hogsmeade Village, or what was left of it to be more precise. Several buildings were completely gone, leaving nothing but a burned out hole in the ground where they used to be. Several more were still standing but had flames slowly consuming them. A few packs of masked Death Eaters were visible among the ruins of the Village, most of them locked in intense duels with Aurors, but overall there was very little fighting. Bodies were strewn about haphazardly. Harry looked away before figuring out if they were the bodies of Death Eaters, Aurors, or innocent bystanders. He wasn't sure he wanted to know._

_He turned his head again and looked at Remus. The older man was surveying the wreckage with an expression similar to the one Harry imagined was on his own face. Moody and the other Order members were nowhere in sight, having already gone off to join one of the fights._

"_I guess we missed most of the fighting," Remus muttered. "It looks like a warzone here."_

"_It is one," Harry replied._

_Remus started and then nodded. He was about to say something else but was cut off by several screams coming from down the street. Harry and Remus looked at each other for a second before setting off down the street, both gripping their wands tightly._

_The screams were coming from a large gathering of people outside of The Three Broomsticks, which had somehow survived the battle mostly intact. At first Harry looked around in confusion, unsure of the cause of the screaming, but it became obvious when a jet of green light flew out from a nearby alley. A girl not more than twelve fell to the ground._

"_Stay calm!" a voice shouted. Harry looked at Remus in surprise. They knew that voice._

"_Tonks!" Remus shouted. He broke into a run followed closely by Harry. They pushed through the crowd and found Tonks standing near the door of The Three Broomsticks._

"_Tonks!" Remus exclaimed. He looked like he wanted to sweep her up in his arms and hold her tight but he restrained himself given the situation._

"_Remus! Harry!" she added in surprise when she saw him standing next to Remus. "I've been helping all the Villagers use the Floo in the pub to get to safety, it's the only place in the Village with a large enough supply of Floo Powder for everyone." There was another scream and some jostling in the crowd. "The Death Eaters have noticed though, they all seem to be converging here. Help them all get inside, I'll try to hold them off."_

_She moved to the edge of the crowd and immediately began firing spells. "I'll help her," Remus said as he moved to stand beside her._

_Harry was just about to join them when a commotion made him turn. Several members of the crowd had all pushed to the front in their panic to avoid the Death Eaters' curses. Three of them had managed to wedge themselves in the door, and a few of the others were pushing and shoving each other as they tried to be first to get inside. A flash of green light followed by an older man falling to the ground and more screams just increased their fighting._

_Harry was torn. He wanted desperately to stand beside Remus and Tonks and help them fight, but he couldn't just leave the citizens to fight among themselves. At the rate they were going none of them would make it into the building where they could Floo to safety. For an agonizing moment of time he looked back and forth between his two choices before he made a decision._

"_Listen up!" he bellowed as he strode towards the door and shot red sparks from his wand. "You have to stay calm!" His words seemed to have no effect._

"_You're not going to get out of here if you don't calm down!"_

_The pushing continued. Harry walked right into the middle of the fight._

"_Enough! Stop it!"_

_He was jostled aside but otherwise ignored._

"_Are you people deaf? You need to…"_

_A stray elbow caught him in the face and knocked him to the ground. He tasted blood, and at that moment several more people in the crowd screamed. Harry could only assume yet another had been brought down by a curse from the Death Eaters but he couldn't see anything now that he was in the middle of the crowd. He felt his rage at the situation suddenly explode and he leapt to his feet._

"_BLOODY SETTLE DOWN! STUPEFY!" The man who seemed to be causing the most problems dropped to the ground. The fighting eased as they all stared at him. Harry Potter had just attacked one of them. They had no idea what to make of that._

"_Are you all stupid!" Harry shouted. "Not one of you has made it to safety in the past several minutes! If you would stop fighting to be the first and stay calm you would all be safe already! Now shut up, stay calm, and do what I tell you if you want to live!"_

_Harry's tirade seemed to work. Over the next few minutes several people managed to Floo to safety now that they were staying calm enough to let each other actually get through the door. The calm was starting to edge away, however, as several more villagers were struck with curses. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Remus and Tonks furiously firing off curses and hexes to protect the Villagers while dancing behind any cover they could find to protect themselves, but there was only so much they could do. The lot of them were terribly exposed, they just weren't escaping quickly enough._

_Suddenly Harry had an idea. He kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. He pointed his wand at the side of The Three Broomsticks. "REDUCTO!" With a loud explosion a large hole opened in the side of the building. Harry rushed through, followed by most of the others._

_The fear on the faces of those inside using the Floo faded once they realized it was only Harry and not Death Eaters storming the building. Harry watched as a man stepped into the fireplace, called out some place Harry didn't recognize, and vanished in a flash of green flames. A second man started to step into the fireplace but Harry stopped him._

"_You're going one at a time?" he asked in disbelief. "No wonder it's taking so long." He pointed his wand at the fireplace and spoke a charm, watching as it expanded from being able to fit only one or two people to being able to fit at least a dozen. _

_The crowd of people stood there. "Well go on, start getting out of here!" he exclaimed._

"_But we're all going to different places!" somebody protested._

_Harry stared in shock and then shook his head at the stupidity of the statement. "Do you want to live or not?" He started pushing the closest people into the fireplace. "Get out of here! Go somewhere! Anywhere! Just go!"_

_After the first group of people left and the next were hurrying into the fireplace Harry turned to go back outside to help Remus and Tonks. He only got a few steps before a Death Eater burst in through the kitchen, obviously having used the back door._

"_STUPEFY!" Harry shouted on reflex. A red jet of light launched from his wand and brought down the Death Eater, distracting Harry enough for him to not notice a curse headed his way until it was too late. The disarming curse struck him squarely in the chest and he watched as his wand was torn from his hand. It traveled through the air in a graceful arc before landing in the hand of a second man who had just stepped out from the kitchen. A man wearing a black silk cloak and polished black boots. A man with a thin build and a pale complexion. A man with red eyes._

"_Voldemort." Harry practically spat out the name. He heard several gasps and turned to see the remaining Villagers starting at Voldemort in shock and fear. "Get out of here!" Harry shouted._

_Voldemort flicked his wand and Harry watched in horror as the fireplace – which was full of people trying to escape, including a family with three small children – exploded. He turned away before the dust cleared, unwilling to see the sight that he knew awaited him. Instead he fixed his gaze on the red eyes in front of him. He fought with every ounce of self-control in his body to restrain his hatred for the man standing before him. He had to keep his head._

"_Hello, Potter," he hissed. "I was hoping you would come and play."_

_Harry said nothing in return._

"_What's wrong, Potter? No witty comeback? No promises that you're going to defeat me? Things don't look so good these days, do they? Not so sure of yourself now that I've killed your beloved headmaster?"_

"_You didn't kill Dumbledore," Harry replied, "Snape did. And I will defeat you."_

_Voldemort laughed. It was a dry, cold sound that sent shivers down Harry's neck. "With what, boy? You're not armed."_

_Harry didn't reply. He was doing his best to project a calm exterior but inwardly he was desperately searching for a plan. Without his wand there was little he could think of to do, and the Villagers would be no help as they were all frozen in fear. Harry couldn't blame them, though. People rarely survived encounters with Voldemort, so in their minds they were all about to die._

_Voldemort took a step towards the group of Villagers. Harry took a step forward to place himself between them and Voldemort, but found himself frozen to the floor with a flick of Voldemort's wand. "Stay put, boy," he said with a callous laugh._

_Harry fought to overcome the curse but couldn't. He could do nothing but watch as Voldemort approached the group of people, being careful to avoid the fireplace with his eyes. Voldemort stopped a few feet in front of them._

"_You are all pathetic," he said in disgust. "You all have wands yet none of you use them. You stand there like cattle being led to the slaughter. You pin all your hopes on that boy over there. You give him fancy names like The-Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One. Chosen for what? To defeat me? He can't even move his feet." He laughed again before moving to stand in front of a small boy. He kneeled down and put himself at eye level with the boy, who had started to shake with fear._

"_What sort of example are you setting for this child? You're teaching him that he should run and hide and let others fight his battles for him. In fact, I think it's already too late for him. You've all corrupted him already." With that he stood up and pointed his wand at the boy. "Avada Kedavra," he said lazily, almost as if he were bored. A flash of green light was followed by a soft thud as the boy hit the ground._

_Harry stared in horror at the lifeless child. Voldemort turned back to look at him with a cold smile on his face. "Don't you see how powerless you are to stop me?" he asked. "You have been an annoyance, yes, but you aren't powerful enough to stop me. Nobody is. Until we meet again…" He snapped Harry's wand in half and threw it at his feet, flicked his own wand, and was gone._

_It took Harry a few seconds to realize the curse had been lifted and he could now move. By that point the boy on the floor was surrounded by sobbing family members while most of the others continued to stand there in shock over coming face to face with the Dark Lord and somehow surviving. A few seconds later Harry realized how quiet it was outside. The shouting of curses and sounds of explosions had vanished._

_He slowly made his way towards the opening in the wall he had made earlier, afraid of what he would find but following his need to make sure that Remus and Tonks were all right. The first thing he noticed was the destruction. It was even worse than when he had been outside only a few minutes earlier. The majority of the buildings that made up Hogsmeade were either gone or in the process of burning to the ground._

_The second thing he noticed was the silence broken only by the crackling of flames as they consumed the Village. The Death Eaters were gone. The fighting had stopped, leaving behind an unnatural stillness that spoke of death, reinforced by the bodies littering the ground. Harry stared in shock at the sight of such destruction, the thick smoke that filled the air stinging his eyes and burning his lungs. He felt overwhelmed by the enormity of what he was seeing. An entire Village destroyed._

_He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head. The body of a woman lay on the ground. The wind, which was just beginning to pick up, had caught hold of a corner of her robe and was blowing it about above her body. Her head was cradled in the lap of Remus Lupin, who was sitting on the ground beside her and softly stroking her hair. It was then that Harry noticed the robe blowing in the wind was an Auror's robe._

_Tonks._

_Harry walked over and sat down next to Remus. He felt tears stinging his eyes and a lump in his throat. Remus looked up at him with an expression of such pain on his face that Harry shivered._

"_I couldn't protect her," Remus whispered as a single tear escaped his eyes and ran down his face._

_Harry bowed his head. Seeing Tonks laying there had shaken him out of the numbness that had been slowly taking over in the past few minutes. His emotions were a boiling mess or rage, grief, and guilt. He drew a shaky breath to try to calm himself but found it did little to help. The lump in his throat grew and he struggled to find a way to deal with the overwhelming intensity of this sudden rush of feeling. He heard a sob escape from Remus and found it too much to deal with._

_He stood up and staggered a few feet away. He stopped and looked down at the body of a Death Eater that lay at his feet. He drew deep breaths to again try to calm himself but felt a rage growing with each breath he took. With a guttural cry he kicked the body with all his might. He kicked and kicked in an effort to release the uncontrollable anger, and eventually it faded, leaving a dull ache that started in the back of his throat and spread throughout his entire body._

_Harry looked down at the now-mangled body. He didn't feel any better – in fact he felt worse – but the intensity of his rage had faded. He turned back to look at Remus and saw the man still sitting on the ground. He was still cradling Tonks' head in his lap and he was staring at her face with an unreadable expression. Her robe continued to flap above her body in the wind in a silent tribute to the fallen._

- - - - -

"That was the last time I ever saw Remus," Harry told his two best friends. "He disappeared later that night."

"Harry, I'm sorry…" Hermione said softly.

"For what?" he asked.

"I just… we never knew. I mean, we knew about the battle, obviously. _The Daily Prophet_ published plenty of pictures showing the destruction. And I knew that was when Tonks died and that you were there. But I just never…" she trailed off, unsure of the words to express herself.

"We didn't know how bad it was. On some level we knew, but we didn't really _know_," Ron finished for her. Hermione nodded.

Harry smiled sadly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I never told you."

"Why do you think Voldemort left without killing you or the other people inside The Three Broomsticks?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed. "I've thought about that a lot, actually. I think he wanted those people to see me powerless to stop him, so that they could spread the word that nobody, not even the great Harry Potter, could stop him. It was just another way for him to spread terror. And as for me, I honestly don't know. My only guess is that he wanted to be able to really hurt me when he killed me. I think he was always looking for a way to do that. When he got Ginny and realized he could kill her in front of me and then kill me, that must have been good enough for him. But that's only a guess, I don't really know."

At the mention of Ginny the trio fell into silence for a moment. Suddenly Harry pulled out his wand and stared at it with a frown. "I was able to have my wand repaired after Voldemort broke it. I just remembered – wasn't my wand shattered into a million pieces during that final battle?" he asked.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Yes, it was. Ron and I had it repaired while you were in the coma. We were going to tell you but just forgot about it."

"I didn't think it would be possible. There was almost nothing left of it," said Harry.

Hermione just smiled. "Magic is a wonderful thing."

Harry smiled back at her, some of the light that had left during his telling of the Battle of Hogsmeade coming back to his eyes. He looked around at the buildings around him. "They really did a good job rebuilding," he said. "You can't even tell that basically the entire Village was destroyed six months ago."

The three of them lapsed into another silence before Ron spoke up. "Come on, let's go inside." Harry nodded and, with one last glance at the spot on the ground where Tonks had fallen, he followed Ron and Hermione into The Three Broomsticks to enjoy a drink with his friends.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

First and foremost, I want to apologize for taking nearly six weeks to write this chapter. I could make all of the usual excuses authors make when they take a long time to write a chapter, but what it basically comes down to is that writing the next chapter just wasn't very high on my list of priorities for several weeks. I will always try to get chapters written in a reasonable amount of time, but I can't promise this won't ever happen again. All I can promise is that this story will never be abandoned.

I had an extremely hard time writing this chapter once I did sit down and start to write. I'm honestly not sure why that is – sometimes chapters just flow out of me and sometimes it's a battle just to squeeze out a paragraph. I think the difficulty I had is reflected in the quality of writing in this chapter, which I don't think is as high as the others. I've revised and revised more times than I care to admit, and ultimately just decided to publish it because I've already made you wait long enough.

I want to thank those of you that have reviewed my story so far. Your wonderful comments were a source of motivation to get this chapter out sooner than I might have otherwise, and I thank you for them. As I said previously, feedback, even negative feedback, is the greatest gift you can give a writer.

Next chapter will actually see very little of Harry as I move time ahead a bit and explore some things with a few other characters.

Please review!


	7. There Be Dragons Here

_See below for an important author's note._

_Thank you, **MattD12027**, for giving Katherine Baxter her name. She is now the second of my characters you have named._

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**The Savior of the Wizarding World****  
Chapter 7 – There Be Dragons Here**

A week after the Hogwarts Commencement, Ginny was moved into the Janus Thickey Ward for Spell Damage on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. Molly Weasley had protested that Ginny should instead be allowed to come home, believing that being in her own bed in the house she grew up in might help her. She had finally been talked out of it, however, when the Healers had explained the constant care and supervision Ginny would require. For all the love she had for her children, Molly knew the sort of care they were talking about was out of her league. She briefly considered hiring somebody to care for Ginny but relented when she admitted to herself that the best place for Ginny was St. Mungo's.

The summer passed without incident for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They spent most of their time studying for their NEWTs and just enjoying being able to spend time together without worrying about Voldemort. At first they visited the Janus Thickey Ward nearly every day, along with the rest of the Weasleys, but eventually their visits became further and further apart. Despite the unspoken vow made by the family to never leave Ginny alone, by the end of the summer most of them were only visiting her at most once or twice a week. It was simply too difficult to watch her lay in bed, day after day, with no sign of waking up.

And so it was that Harry found himself standing outside the Burrow with his hands stuffed in his pockets to ward off the cold, late-October air. Harry and Hermione had joined the entire Weasley family, minus Ginny and Percy, at the Burrow for a dinner in Charlie's honor, who had decided it was time for him to return to Romania. It was the first time the entire family had gotten together in several months, and it was apparent to Harry just why that was. Fred and George refused to say a single word to their Father all night, leaving Arthur with a sad, resigned look on his face. Charlie spent the entire evening glaring at Harry, and when Bill dragged his younger brother into the other room they all heard the muffled sounds of shouting. When the two eldest Weasley children returned to the dining room table they were no longer speaking to each other. And, perhaps most disheartening of all, Molly barely spoke to anybody throughout the entire meal and ate almost nothing, instead staring off into space with a beaten look on her face. It was the most silent meal Harry had ever eaten at the Burrow.

He heard the sound of a door opening in the distance and turned to see Hermione walk out the front door of the Burrow. She looked around in the fading light of dusk for a moment before spotting Harry and walking towards him. Reaching him, she leaned up against the fence at the edge of the Weasley property that Harry was currently resting against. They stood there in silence for a moment before Harry spoke.

"Where's Ron?"

"Inside saying goodbye to Charlie," Hermione answered.

They lapsed into another silence, this time broken by Hermione.

"That was awful," she said.

Harry nodded grimly. "The whole family is falling apart. I never thought it would happen, not to the Weasleys…" he trailed off.

"It's all so unfair," Hermione said softly. She sniffled.

Harry turned to look at her, surprised to see tears on her cheeks. "Hermione?" he asked.

She sniffled again and wiped her face. "It's just so awful. Their family was always so full of love, and now they can barely make it through a dinner together. Fred and George didn't even crack one joke all night. Ron hides it, but he's not dealing with all this very well. I think he still feels guilty about not being able to help Ginny." She sniffled yet again and then sighed. "Look at me, I'm such a nut case these days."

Harry put an arm around his friend and drew her close to him. He smiled slightly. "You've always been a nut case, Hermione."

She laughed softly and rested her head on his shoulder. After a few minutes of companionable silence Hermione muttered, "You've changed, Harry."

"How so?" he asked.

"The old Harry used to be so uncomfortable with people touching him."

"How could I possibly resist having a beautiful girl resting her head on my shoulder?" he asked in a playful voice.

Hermione lifted her head and looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes. "What?" Harry asked. "You are beautiful, you know." When the uncertainty remained in her look he realized he had misinterpreted its cause. "Don't worry, Hermione, I say that as a friend, or maybe even a brother, but not like _that_. That's Ron's department."

Satisfied she wasn't guilty of leading her friend on, Hermione sighed and put her head back down on Harry's shoulder. "I'm not so sure about that."

"He's crazy about you, Hermione."

"The night you woke up after beating Voldemort, remember when Ron stormed out and I went after him?" She felt Harry nod so she continued. "He told me he had let Voldemort hurt both Ginny and me, and that he had failed to protect the two girls he loves most."

"See, I…" Harry started to say.

"That was more than four months ago, Harry. He hasn't said a single word about it since. The night I went home for the first time and talked to my parents, I had a long talk with my Mum about Ron. She told me I should take things slow, to let life return to normal before making any big decisions. But it's been so long now… I don't know what to think!"

Harry thought for a moment before responding. "He's scared, Hermione. He's going to lose Ginny…" For a second Harry got a faraway look in his eyes before continuing. "He's losing his family, as you saw tonight. He thought he was going to lose me when I was in that coma. He's probably afraid of losing you too. He's scared, and he doesn't know what to do anymore." _Just like me,_ Harry added silently to himself.

Several more moments of silence passed as Hermione digested Harry's words. "You really have changed, Harry," she said at last.

Harry shrugged, dislodging Hermione's head from his shoulder in the process. "Sorry," he said. He glanced down and saw that she was giving him a rather intense look. After several seconds he started to feel uncomfortable. "What?" he asked.

"I'm supposed to be the adult in this friendship, Mr. Potter. When did you grow up?" Hermione asked the question in a teasing voice, but Harry could tell she was interested in a serious answer, even if she didn't expect him to actually give one.

"The night I watched Snape murder Professor Dumbledore," answered Harry flatly.

"Oh," said Hermione. It was not her most elegant statement ever but it was all she could think of to say in reply to that. Again the two lapsed into a companionable silence, watching the last light fade from the sky. Just as the first stars were appearing Harry heard the distant sound of a door opening for the second time that night. He turned around and saw Ron walk out of the Burrow.

"Hey," said Harry once Ron had walked over to where he and Hermione were standing.

"Hey," said Ron.

For several minutes that was the extent of their conversation as Ron joined the silence his two friends had been sharing. At the moment there just wasn't much to say to each other, each was lost in his or her own thoughts and drawing comfort from the constant presence of his or her two closest friends.

It was Harry who eventually broke the silence. "Are you ready to go?" he asked Ron.

Ron nodded. "Charlie just left a few minutes ago," he said sharply. His bitter tone did not go unnoticed by his friends.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.

Ron sighed. "Nothing," he said. Hermione looked like she was about to argue when Harry cut in.

"Let's go home," he said.

- - - - -

Charlie Weasley appeared at the edge of a clearing in the woods with a loud _CRACK!_ It was dark, the only light coming from the moon overhead and the dying embers of a fire in the middle of the clearing. He looked around and saw several tents arranged in a loose circle surrounding the fire. An empty bottle of Ogden's finest lay on the ground near one of the tents. Pairs of thick work boots were scattered about near the various tents. The sound of soft snoring was evident drifting from a few of the tents.

Charlie walked softly through the clearing, stopping in front of a tent with no boots outside and no sounds of snoring evident inside. He looked at the words engraved above the opening in the soft exterior of the tent and let out a sigh.

_Charlie Weasley  
There Be Dragons Here_

He was home.

Charlie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the tension slowly bleeding out of his body. Several months of tension, anger, and grief eased away as he breathed in the night air and stood before the place he truly thought of as home, tension that had come to a head just a short while ago as he was leaving the Burrow. After Harry and Hermione had gone outside the rest of his family had decided it was time to "set him straight," as his mother had put it. They had all ganged up on him and tried to convince him Harry wasn't to blame for what happened to Ginny. He didn't want to hear any of it. Of course the little brat was to blame! It was because of him that You-Know-Who decided to kill her!

It had quickly degenerated into an argument in which Charlie felt cornered – it was the first time in months his family had all agreed on anything. Charlie felt as though he had done a remarkable job keeping his cool despite being ambushed by his entire family, but Ron's comment had changed all that. When Ron told him he was dishonoring the memory of his sister by treating Harry that way he lost it. He had nearly attacked his brother, in fact he would have if Bill hadn't been there to hold him back. He screamed a few obscenities, told them all off for acting like she was dead when she wasn't and for opening their arms to the boy that was responsible for her condition, and told them that Percy actually had the right idea in breaking off ties with the family. The last sight he saw before Disapparating away from his childhood home was the stricken look on his Mother's face.

"Charlie?"

Charlie turned at the sound of his name and smiled when he saw the tall, burly frame of Jack Peters, the American Dragon Handler Charlie had come to call his best friend in the years they had spent together in Romania. He had missed his friend these past several months.

"Jack, how are you?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie! I thought I heard you Apparate in. I'd recognize your sound just about anywhere. I swear, you've got the loudest Apparition crack I've ever heard!"

Charlie shrugged, a playful smile on his face. "Well, you know me," he answered. "Talentless hacks like me are rubbish at Apparating."

Jack winced. "You're never going to let me live that comment down, are you? You'd just landed the girl I'd been after for months! You can't blame a guy for being bitter. Besides, that was years ago!"

Charlie chuckled. "If you had told anybody – like perhaps _her_ – that you were interested, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to steal her away from you!"

Jack held up his hands in mock defense. "Whoa, whoa, like you're one to talk!" he joked. He froze just as the last word was leaving his mouth, his eyes wide in disbelief at what he'd just said.

Just as quickly as it had appeared upon seeing his friend, the light in Charlie's eyes disappeared. His smile faded away and his eyes turned cold. It was as if somebody had flipped a switch, a whole different Charlie was suddenly left behind where a smiling, laughing one had been standing only moments ago.

"Charlie, I'm sorry," Jack said softly. "I didn't mean..."

Charlie held up a hand. "It's OK, Jack. I know."

Jack took a step forward and studied his friend's face. "How are you, Charlie?" he asked after a moment. He didn't know the whole situation with the Weasley family, but he did know about Charlie's little sister.

"Glad to be home," Charlie answered truthfully.

"How is..." Jack trailed off.

"Ginny?" Charlie asked. Jack nodded. "The same as she was the day it happened," he answered. "They've moved her into a long-term care ward. I just... it was time for me to leave."

Jack nodded. "Listen, I've got a bottle of firewhiskey back in my tent. How about you and I crack it open and talk about old times? I can catch you up on what's been going on around here. We've got a couple new dragons in the area these days."

Charlie smiled faintly but shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but I think I'm going to pass for tonight. I think I might just turn in."

Jack nodded again. "Sure thing," he said. "Get some sleep, you look like hell." He turned and started to walk back to his own tent.

"It's good to see you too, Jack," Charlie called out after him.

Jack paused just outside his tent and turned back to look at Charlie. "I'm glad you're back," he said seriously. Then suddenly he broke out in a grin. "It hasn't been as much fun around here without you to get your ass burned by the dragons every other day. It's about time I had some quality entertainment again!" And with that he disappeared in his tent, leaving Charlie standing outside still working on a comeback.

Once again alone, Charlie turned back to his tent and stared at the words engraved above the opening. He ran his hand slowly over the words, tracing each letter of the silly little phrase. _There Be Dragons Here_. With a great sigh he lifted the flap and stepped inside.

Like most magical tents the interior was larger than it appeared from the outside, but in Charlie's case it wasn't that much larger. His was a simple tent, consisting of one room just large enough for his bed, desk, dresser (empty since everything he owned was either in the pack on his back or the pile he had left on the floor), and a rather comfortable reclining chair he had borrowed from Jack years ago (although Jack did like to complain that borrowing without asking didn't really count as borrowing). There was an opening near the desk that led into a small kitchen and eating area.

Charlie dropped his pack on the floor near the pile of clothes and looked around. It wasn't much, but it was all a man who lived in a camp in the woods and spent all day working with dragons needed. It kept him happy.

Charlie walked slowly around the room, looking at the various objects he had collected over the years. It was amazing to him how completely his idea of _home_ had changed over time. For the first few years after moving to Romania he had loved returning to the Burrow, the feeling of going home was something special that he looked forward to before each trip. But over time that feeling had faded, it seemed that each time he returned to the Burrow it felt less and less like home. It had bothered him to realize he was losing that image, that idea in his mind, about the Burrow being home. He found himself feeling inexplicably depressed each time he went back there, and it was a long time before he realized it was because he was trying to hold onto something that didn't really exist any longer. It wasn't until he called Romania "home" one time without even realizing it that he understood there was nothing to be depressed about. He hadn't lost his concept of home, it had just shifted from one place to another. In some ways he would probably always feel like he had lost something, but realizing the Burrow wasn't his home no longer depressed him like it used to. Not that it mattered anymore, he realized as he remembered how his most recent trip home had ended.

He paused as he came to the nightstand next to his bed. A shadow passed over his face for a second as he looked at a Wizarding photograph before it was replaced by a soft smile. He picked up the framed picture and watched as the scene played out. _Charlie and a woman with curly, blond hair were flying in circles around a large black dragon, trying to distract it from a third Dragon Handler who was attempting to take a blood sample. After an unsuccessful attempt to swipe at the two of them with its giant paw, the Dragon seemed to get frustrated. It let out a sudden belch of flame that ignited Charlie's broomstick, causing him to crash into the woman in his frantic attempts to put it out. The two crashed into the ground and lay next to each other, Charlie red with embarrassment and the woman shaking with laughter._ Just as they were about to stand up the scene reset itself.

Charlie shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. He thought back to the day, three years earlier, when the woman had arrived in camp...

- - - - -

"_Just wait until you see this new girl we've got," Jack said with a grin on his face. "She's absolutely fantastic!"_

_Charlie gave his friend a critical look. "The last time you hired a girl you said was 'fantastic,' she turned out to be one of the worst Handlers we've ever had. Please tell me this time you're referring to her skills handling a dragon and not how high she ranks on the 'Jack Peters Scale of Gorgeous Women,'" he said with a sigh._

_Jack chuckled. "Just wait and see, my friend. Just wait and see."_

_Charlie said nothing and followed Jack along the path through the woods. He was so busy plotting revenge on Jack for the way Jack had gotten Charlie to agree – while he was drunk, no less – to allow Jack to choose the next new Dragon Handler they hired that it took him several seconds to notice that they had reached their destination. The path had come to an abrupt end at the edge of a cliff, giving them a magnificent view of an immense, lush valley below. It was one of several dragon refuges that Charlie's camp was assigned to oversee, and it was home to one of the most violent dragons Charlie had ever met: Norbert._

_Just as Charlie was starting to fear the worst, a gigantic black dragon rose from a grove of trees on the valley floor and took to the sky. He turned his head and sent a boiling mass of red flame backwards before climbing higher in the sky. Charlie followed the flame with his eye and saw it narrowly miss a tiny black speck that danced out of the way just in time. He raised the pair of Omniculars he had around his neck to his eyes and confirmed his fears._

"_Jack! You have our new recruit trying to give Norbert his flu potion! Are you BLOODY INSANE! You and I can barely manage to do that, and that's when we're working together. She's out there all alone? She'll be killed!" Charlie was livid. The last thing he wanted was somebody killed on their first day of work at the camp he and Jack supervised._

"_Keep watching her, Charlie," Jack responded with that same maddening grin. Charlie shot his friend a filthy look but then did what he was told. He raised the Omniculars back to his eyes. He was too far away to see details even with the magic lenses, but it was obvious the new recruit was a young female. Charlie turned back just in time to see her avoid a second jet of flame from Norbert._

_After avoiding the fire she hovered for several seconds, staying absolutely still. Norbert stopped several feet away and hovered as well. He let out a giant roar, shaking the entire valley and causing a flock of birds on a distant lake to take flight, but the woman did not even flinch. Unused to such a lack of response, Norbert let out a second roar even louder than the first, accompanied by a shower of sparks from his nose. Again the woman stayed absolutely still. Norbert snorted and cocked his head at her._

_Suddenly, with a burst of speed that surprised even famed Gryffindor Quidditch Seeker Charlie Weasley, she shot forward directly towards Norbert. Norbert blinked and snapped at her with his huge jaws but it was too late, she had already passed out of range. She immediately pulled up into a vertical climb, and by the time Norbert had turned around to look for her she was nearly a hundred feet above him. He turned around in a slow circle looking for her before letting out a roar, this time a bit quieter and a bit more unsettled-sounding._

_After hovering above him for several seconds and giving Norbert time to become rather agitated, she swooped down in a steep dive. Just as she passed through his field of vision she leveled out and swung around behind him. The enraged dragon turned around, sparks shooting out of his nose so quickly they were forming a nearly continuous river of flame. He drew in a deep breath but she continued to circle and had swung behind him again. Norbert swallowed the flame he was about to unleash, causing smoke to pour out of his ears. Combined with the sparks from his nose he formed a sight so intimidating even Charlie felt himself shiver._

_Norbert turned around to find the woman but she had already swung around behind him a third time. He whirled around but she continued to circle, Norbert not quite able to catch up with her. The two spun faster and faster, eventually becoming nothing more than a blur of color, smoke, and flame. It was enough to make Charlie nauseous._

_In a movement so fast Charlie nearly missed it the woman on the broom again shot upwards. Norbert, who was still trying to catch up with her in their spinning, never noticed and seemed to assume she was still circling him. He continued to turn in a tight circle and Charlie watched as the woman slowly descended until she was mere inches above the dragon. She reached into a pocket in her robes and pulled out something Charlie couldn't see but assumed was Norbert's potion._

"_Norbert!" she suddenly called out in a loud voice (Charlie was too far away and would not have actually heard her without the magic of the Omniculars)._

_Norbert stopped spinning. He leaned to one side in the air briefly before he managed to right himself. He tipped his head up to find the source of the sound, his mouth hanging open and his gigantic, black tongue hanging to one side. In one fluid motion the woman poured the potion into his open mouth, reached back into her pocket (most likely to put the empty bottle away), and sped off. By the time Norbert even realized what had happened she was well out of harm's way._

_Norbert froze for a few seconds. The sparks ceased to flow from his nose. The smoke pouring from his ears briefly turned green and then ceased as well. He let out what could only be described as a cough before swooping down and landing roughly on the ground. He staggered around for several seconds just as an animal who had spent several minutes violently spinning would, and then laid down on the ground. He let out a roar that sounded more like a whimper before curling up and going to sleep._

_Charlie turned back to Jack with wide eyes. It had been years since he had seen somebody handle a broom that well. "That... She... I mean... Wow," he stammered._

"_I told you she was fantastic," Jack said with a chuckle. "She's not bad looking either," he added._

"_Fantastic?" Charlie asked. "Bloody incredible is more like it. I haven't seen somebody fly that well since..." he trailed off, and after a moment he shook his head. "Well, in a really long time. Where did you find her? Who is she?"_

_Jack was about to answer but stopped as he glanced behind Charlie. Instead he gestured and asked, "Why don't you ask her yourself?" Charlie turned and froze._

"_Charlie Weasley, meet Katherine Baxter," Jack said but Charlie barely even noticed he had spoken. He was staring at the girl – no, the woman – in front of him. He was staring at a face framed by slightly curly, blonde hair and punctuated by bright blue eyes. It was a face he saw often in his dreams despite his best efforts to forget. It was a face he had never expected to see again._

"_Hello, Charlie," she said softly._

"_Kate..." Charlie said. For a few brief seconds a thousand memories he had tried so hard to bury over the years flashed before his eyes. He was overcome with an elation at seeing her combined with a deep sadness. A large part of him wanted to sweep her into his arms but for some reason that he didn't fully understand he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he projected a collected, calm exterior that hid the strange combination of feelings at war within him and just stared at her._

"_Do you two know each other?" asked Jack, who was eyeing the two with a puzzled look on his face._

_Charlie nodded. "We went to school together," he answered before turning his attention back to Kate, who was still looking at Charlie. "I should have known it was you," he told her. "Best Chaser Gryffindor ever had."_

_Kate smiled. "That's right. I hear you've been replaced as Gryffindor's best Seeker, though," she teased._

_Charlie winced but smiled. "I can admit not being the best when I need to. Harry Potter can fly a broom in ways I could never even imagine. He could probably even give you a run for your money."_

_Kate laughed softly. "Someday we'll have to see about that," she said._

"_Well, I see introductions won't be necessary," Jack said. "Let's get back to camp. We'll get you set up with a tent, Kate."_

_Charlie started to nod but stopped, remembering he was needed to help a few Handlers in another of the refuges. "I can't, I need to go help out in the North Refuge," he told them, "but you two go ahead." He looked at Kate. "We should catch up later."_

_Kate nodded. "Definitely. I'd like that, Charlie."_

_Charlie pulled his shrunken broom out of his pocket and enlarged it with a quick wave of his wand. His gaze lingered on Kate for a few seconds before he mounted his broom and pushed off the ground. "I'll see you both later," he called as he sped off towards the north._

_The work in the North Refuge took much longer than expected and, by the time Charlie managed to return to camp, it was several hours after sunset. He stopped off in his tent to drop off his broom and other gear and to grab a Butterbeer before joining the others around the fire. There were only a few Handlers still up, and with a quick glance around the circle he noticed Kate was not one of them. He couldn't help the twinge of disappointment that briefly flared within him. He helped himself to a bowl of soup from the pot over the fire, prepared by whoever's turn it was to cook that night, and sat back and ate slowly, listening to the men and women around him discussing everything from their work that day to Wizarding politics in nations all over the world._

_The group slowly dwindled as people retired to their tents, and eventually he and Jack were the only two left sitting around the fire. They had been silent for several minutes, and just when Charlie was about to stand up and turn in himself, Jack spoke._

"_What's the story with you and Kate?" he asked. Charlie didn't answer and instead stared into the fire. Mistaking his silence for not being heard, Jack repeated the question._

"_I heard you the first time," Charlie answered, "I'm just trying to figure out how to answer. It's... complicated."_

"_What do you mean?" asked Jack._

"_Kate and I were friends in school. We were in the same year, and we were both on one of our school's Quidditch teams. We..." he trailed off and frowned. He had never tried to put into words what had happened between them at Hogwarts._

"_Did you date her?" Jack asked._

_Charlie shook his head. "No," he said._

"_But you liked her?"_

_Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I did."_

"_And she didn't like you in return?"_

_Charlie laughed, but it was a short, bitter laugh. "That wasn't the problem."_

_Jack frowned. "Charlie, you're not making any sense."_

_Charlie let out a great sigh and finally tore his gaze from the fire to look at his friend. "We were friends our last few years at school, nothing more," he said. "I never told her how I felt. Don't ask me why – I've asked myself that question countless times and I've never figured out the answer." He shrugged and looked back into the fire. "Anyway, a few days before Commencement, we both admitted we fancied each other and went on the last Hogsmeade Weekend together. A day out in a local Wizarding Village," he added when he realized Jack was American and had no idea what a Hogsmeade Weekend was._

"_It was... fantastic. Awful. Both? Neither? I'm just not sure. It was so incredible to finally have a chance to be together, but there was this "doomed" feeling hanging over us. I was leaving in a few days to start work in Romania, and she was leaving a week later to play Professional Quidditch in Northern Scotland. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but we never really talked about any of it. We spent the day together and then, just like that, it was over, I was in Romania and she was in Scotland. We owled each other a bit at first, but even then we never really talked about what happened. So many things were left unsaid..." he trailed off._

"_You being in Romania and her being in Scotland would have been hard, but not impossible," Jack said after a minute._

_Charlie shook his head and looked at his friend. "I didn't want that, and I doubt she did either. It's just so hard to make that sort of thing work – people just get burned in the long run."_

"_You could have at least tried."_

_Charlie shook his head but didn't respond right away. Instead he thought about Jack's words for a few seconds. "It wasn't like that," he said at last. "I didn't know what I wanted. I don't know if she knew what she wanted. And we certainly didn't know what the other wanted since we never even talked about it. But looking back on it now, and I can only speak for myself, not for her, but what I wanted was..." he stopped. It was the first time he had ever tried to vocalize what exactly he had wanted. "I wanted something I couldn't have. I wanted to change things, to have all the wasted time back." Charlie sighed. "I don't know, I can't really explain any better. It was all so complicated. I don't know if I've ever sorted out everything that happened back then."_

_Jack shook his head. "Charlie, what is there to sort out? You liked her. She liked you. You both wasted all the time you had together, and while I don't know about her, ever since you've wondered 'what if' because you were too scared to talk – really **talk** – to her. It's not that complicated."_

"_It is to me," Charlie said softly._

"_You're hopeless. Completely hopeless," Jack said with a sigh. "Do you still like her?" he asked after a moment._

"_I've tried to forget about her over the last several years, and I thought I had pretty much managed to do just that," Charlie answered. "But when I saw her today – I thought I would be able to answer 'no' to that question, you know? It's been so long and so much has changed since we were – "_

"_It's a simple question, Charlie," Jack interrupted._

_Charlie stopped in mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open for a second before he snapped it closed. He thought about the question Jack had asked. It was the question he had been trying to avoid dealing with all day, and while he had been largely successful at that while occupied in the North Refuge, Jack was forcing him to deal with it._

"_I don't know," he sighed._

"_You don't know, or you don't want to know?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. For all his playfulness and apparent immature behavior, he was more experienced in some of the things Charlie was talking about than he shared with others._

_Charlie didn't answer, but he didn't have to. They both knew the answer even if he wasn't willing to say it aloud. They fell into a long silence broken only by the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind through the trees. After a while Jack stood up and stretched._

"_I'm turning in," he told Charlie, who nodded. "I don't know Kate very well, and I have no idea what she thinks about all this. But, Charlie, don't make it so that you look back on this time years from now with the same regret you seem to have for when you were in school. One way or another you need to put this to rest in your mind."_

_Charlie didn't respond but he didn't have to, they both knew Jack was right even if Charlie still had no idea what to do about all of it. "Good night, mate," was all he said._

_Jack nodded and disappeared into his tent, leaving Charlie alone with the fire, the wind, and his jumbled thoughts._

- - - - -

Charlie watched the scene with himself, Kate, and Norbert one last time before carefully replacing the picture on the stand next to his bed. He thought about the words Jack had said to him that night.

_Don't make it so that you look back on this time years from now with the same regret you seem to have for when you were in school._

He peeled off his shirt, trousers, and socks and threw them into the pile of clothes in the corner. As he climbed into bed, he thought about how he had done exactly what Jack had warned him not to do.

"_Nox_," he said. The light in his tent went out and he placed his wand on the stand next to the picture. He lay awake for a long time before drifting into an unsettled sleep.

- - - - -

Arthur Weasley stood across the street from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_, his cloak pulled tightly to him to protect against the bitter early-December cold. It had been nearly six weeks since he had seen his twin sons at Charlie's farewell dinner, despite his every effort to contact them. He had refused to try to speak to them for most of the summer, mostly out of shame over the terrible things he had said to them the day they tried to make Harry laugh by impersonating Aurors, but also partly because of his stubborn Weasley pride, and by the time he had made an effort to apologize for his words they had wanted nothing to do with him.

He had sent them several Owls each week after they refused to speak to him at Charlie's dinner, but each one had been returned unopened. Charlie was not coming home for Christmas, Percy would no doubt ignore the family just as he did every other day of the year, and Ginny certainly wouldn't be home. If Fred and George ignored him and created tension on Christmas – or worse, decided not to even show up for Christmas dinner – Arthur knew it would just tear Molly apart. Two of their children had cut ties with the family and a third was lost in a magical coma. He had to make things right with Fred and George.

Arthur took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He was surprised at how nervous he was about talking to his own sons. Sending Owls had been so much easier, but the time for taking the easy way out was over. He drew his cloak tighter around him and stepped into the street.

He didn't take more than one step before the door to the shop opened. He watched as two young boys, the older of the two not more than nine or ten, bounced out of the store, followed a few seconds later by a woman who was unmistakably their mother. She was carrying a large sack in her arms. Before she was even fully out the door her two children turned on her.

"Mum, can we have them now?" the older one asked.

The woman smiled and shook her head. "These are for Christmas, you know that. You'll just have to wait a few more weeks."

"But Mum, we already know what you got. We picked them out!"

She shook her head again. "I said no," she said.

"Please?" the older boy pleaded.

Before she could say anything, the younger boy joined his brother in their mission to wear down their mother. He looked up at her with a sad, wide-eyed look. "Please, Mum?" he asked in a tiny voice. "I promise I won't ask for anything else for the next year!" He had such a look of innocence to him that Arthur felt his heart go out to the child. Apparently his mother felt the same way, for she looked back and forth between her two boys for a few seconds before heaving a great sigh.

"Oh, very well," she said in a resigned voice. "You each can have one thing now. But everything else waits until Christmas. _No_ Exceptions!" She tried to salvage her authority by being strict at the end, but it was clear the kids had already won the battle. She reached into the sack and pulled out two black, wooden wands.

With a quick "Thanks, Mum!" the two boys grabbed them from her hand and immediately pointed them at each other.

"Pow!" the younger one shouted.

"That's not a real spell!" the other boy protested. "But this one is! Stupefy!"

Instead of sending a jet of red light, the wand let out a loud _BANG!_ and a thick puff of smoke, leaving behind a rubber chicken. The two boys squealed in delight as their faces lit up.

"Brilliant!" the one holding the rubber chicken said before bursting out laughing. Their mother, who had watched the exchange with amusement, prodded them along and all three made their way down the street. Arthur could still hear the sounds of child laughter long after they had turned the corner and passed out of sight.

For several minutes Arthur stood there staring at where they had disappeared. He kept picturing the look of delight on the boy's face when his toy wand turned into a rubber chicken before his very eyes. A small piece of wood with a rather simple charm on it that had been invented and sold by two of his sons had brought several moments of pure joy to those two children.

Arthur had never really understood what his sons did for a living. He was amused by the antics the two of them were always up to but he never understood the satisfaction the two of them found in the joke business. But watching that moment between two brothers and their mother, he understood, truly _understood_ – perhaps for the first time in his life – what it was about their work his two sons found so satisfying. With his newfound insight he squared his shoulders, walked across the street, and stepped into the shop.

As he entered, he caught a very brief glance of a shop full of laughing customers, outrageously decorated for the holidays, and blaring Christmas music at an insane volume. But before he was able to even fully get through the door he suddenly froze. He couldn't move, it was as if a giant, invisible hand had grabbed a hold of him and refused to let go. He couldn't even move enough to attempt to struggle. He was completely frozen.

His mind had just processed this fact when he felt himself flung backward through the still open door. He flew through the air and landed hard on his backside in the same spot he had been standing only moments earlier while watching the two boys with their toy wands. A loud, whooping siren sounded. Arthur sat up, wincing as he felt pain shoot through his back. He would be sore for days.

He looked around in confusion and saw that the outside of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ had transformed from the normal-looking exterior of a modest Wizarding shop into what looked like an impenetrable bank vault. Printed in flashing red and black letters across the face of the vault was one word.

BANNED!

Arthur sat on the ground for a few more seconds, trying to figure out what had just happened, and just as he was about to stand up a loud trumpet fanfare sounded. He looked around but could not find the source of it.

"Arise, wretched soul," came the sound of a disembodied, booming voice that echoed throughout the street. A crowd was gathering around the scene as Arthur looked around with wide eyes. "You will not be asked a second time," the voice intoned.

Arthur got to his feet as the trumpet fanfare sounded a second time. As it reached the final notes the illusion of the bank vault disappeared and was replaced with the normal exterior of the shop. The door opened and Fred and George stepped out. George was carrying a large piece of parchment.

Arthur opened his mouth but was interrupted by the booming voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. "You will remain silent." Arthur stared at his two sons in shock, but found his gaze met with hard, cold looks. The crowd had grown and now several dozen people were standing around in complete silence, watching the scene with great interest. George raised the parchment and cleared his throat. He began to speak, his voice magically projected and easily heard by all present.

"Arthur Weasley, for your crime of treating your sons with a lack of respect, dignity, and caring, we, the owners and operators of this fine establishment, have judged you accordingly. From this moment henceforth, you are banned from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes._ You are banned from using any _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ products. You are banned from profiting in any way from the earnings of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes._ Charms have been put in place to uphold this punishment. Good day to you, sir."

Without another word George rolled up the parchment, turned, and walked back into the store. Fred stayed a few seconds longer and stared at his father, who was frozen in wide-eyed astonishment over what had just happened, before turning and following his brother.

Arthur continued to stand across the street from the store as the crowd slowly dispersed. He thought about trying to follow his sons into the store, but considering what had just happened he knew it would most likely be a fruitless endeavor. He pulled out his wand and hung his head in shame. He felt like a complete failure. He gave his wand a twist and Disapparated from Diagon Alley.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

It's been a really long time since I've updated, nearly five months to be precise. That's actually rather frightening to me, I find it incredible that five months has passed since I last updated this chapter. So why did I stop updating?

It was actually a combination of several things. The last several months of my life have been building up to an event that carried a lot of weight concerning my future, and as a result of that, hobbies such as writing had to take a backseat to concentrating on my future. That event is now over (and all went well, in case anyone was wondering), so in theory I should have more free time to update this story.

But it's actually more than that. This chapter that I'm posting was written around Christmas, and has been finished for nearly three and a half months. I didn't post it because it goes hand-in-hand with the next chapter, so I wanted to finish that one first and post them at the same time. But I never got around to writing it, and now that I have time to think about this story again, I find myself asking whether or not I really want to finish it? To be honest I have not yet decided. Writing this story takes up a large chunk of my free time, and I'm just not sure I have the desire to continue to spend that time doing this when there are so many other things in life I want to do as well. So, I'm just not sure. I know I've promised before never to abandon this story, and while I haven't actually decided yet, I'm leaning towards doing just that. I need to really think about whether or not I want to continue writing. Anyway, with that said, here's the original note I wrote when I wrote this chapter back in December:

While it may seem that much of this chapter came out of nowhere, Charlie, like Percy, has a very important role to play in this story, a role that has been loosely planned out right from the very beginning. You will slowly learn more about the history between him and Kate, their story during the three years between when she arrived in Romania and the present, and what all this has to do with both Charlie blaming Harry and where this story is ultimately headed.

From here on Charlie and Percy will be, for the most part, the only characters where I continue to use flashbacks to tell important bits of the story. Most of the other characters will begin to move forward - since I've given most of the important history and back-story for these characters that I need to, flashbacks will be less common.

Please review!


End file.
